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The Young Arctic Traders 


















































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The Eskimo drew his long knife and slashed at 
the polar bear’s neck 


[ Page 277 ] 


The Young Arctic Traders 

Further Adventures of the 
Arctic Stowaways 


BY 

DILLON WALLACE 

4 * 

AUTHOR OF "THE ARCTIC STOWAWAYS,” " BOBBY OF THE LABRADOR,” 
"THE FUR TRAIL ADVENTURERS,” " THE LURE OF THE LABRADOR 
WILD,” "THE WILDERNESS CASTAWAYS,” ETC. 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY 

J. ALLEN ST. JOHN 




> > 
> > > 



CHICAGO 


A. C. McCLURG & CO 

1921 



Copyright 

A. C. McClurg & Co. 
1921 


Published October, 1921 


Copyrighted in Great Britain 


NOV - I 1921 


Printed in the United States of America 


M. A. DONOHUE & CO., PRINTERS AND BINDERS, CHICAGO 


©CI.A630102 

"Vv<0 I 


Co JFtienO 

James Edmund Jones, Esq., 

OF TORONTO, CANADA 
Founder of 

The Aura Lee Club for Boys 


Who yearns for palmy southern seas ? 

Who longs to dream the languorous hours. 

To fritter in luxurious ease, 

His vigorous manhood’s early powers ? 

To the North! To the North we go! 

To the North, where the fresh winds blow. 

John D. Spence, 
University of Toronto Song Book 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I Grumbling Down Forward .... I 
II A Warning 13 

III The Fateful Thirteen 25 

IV A Sinister Threat 36 

V The Outlaws Conspire 46 

VI Captain Mugford’s Strategy .... 58 

VII The Whale Hunt 69 

VIII Levine Makes a Proposition .... 77 

IX The Discussion in the Cabin .... 91 

X “Surrender the Ship!” 101 

XI The Defense of the Ship 109 

XII Ole Johnson’s Confession 12 1 

XIII Lynch Law 133 

XIV The Hut on the Rocks 143 

XV Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 164 

XVI Alone on a Desolate Shore .... 190 

XVII The Hurricane 200 

XVIII The Perils of the Floe 214 

XIX The Marooned Conspirators .... 221 

XX A Cry in the Night 235 

XXI The Man with a Knife 252 


Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXII Pootah, the Coward 268 

XXIII The End of the Long Night .... 276 

XXIV The Cave Men 288 

XXV The Attack 297 

XXVI The Gun Fight . , 307 

XXVII The End of the Cruise 317 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

The Eskimo drew his long knife and slashed at the 

polar bear’s neck Frontispiece 

The Sky Pilot’s fist, like a sledge hammer, caught 

the Russian under the jaw no 

Gigantic icebergs, like turreted castles, rose high 

above a black and somber sea 204 

The spear darted forward and Sookinuk drew forth 
a big trout . 


248 



The Young Arctic Traders 

CHAPTER I 

GRUMBLING DOWN FORWARD 

T HE Sea Lion , of New Bedford, Captain 
Elias Mugford, was heading northward 
under a light westerly breeze, with every sail 
set from jib to main gaff topsail. The sea 
was free from ice, save ever-present bergs dot- 
ting the throbbing waters of Baffin Bay like 
mighty chessmen of carved ivory and opal 
upon a great green board. The sun shone 
brightly, and the atmosphere was clear and 
transparent. It was a perfect day north of 
the Arctic Circle. 

Alfred Knowles and Henry Metford, 
standing in the bow of the Sea Lion , were 
silently watching a somber dark line to the 
eastward that marked the Greenland coast, 
with the grim rocks of Cape Parry looming 


2 


The Young Arctic Traders 


out of the sea off the starboard quarter. They 
were broad-shouldered, athletic young men 
of nineteen or thereabouts, their faces were 
deeply bronzed from constant exposure to 
wind and weather, their eyes keen and alert, 
and they had the bearing and self-reliance 
that men acquire who battle with nature and 
the elements. 

The Sea LzWhad been a year in the Arc- 
tic hunting whales and bartering with natives 
for furs, ivory, and other products of the 
frozen wilderness. It had been a year filled 
with adventure for A1 Knowles and Harry 
Metford. 

An adventure, indeed, had placed them 
aboard the whaler, when, one July night the 
previous year, to escape the results of an esca- 
pade, they took refuge in the hold of the ves- 
sel as she lay at her wharf in New Bedford. 
Here they had fallen asleep, and when they 
awoke found to their astonishment and dis- 
may that the ship had put to sea, and that 
they, themselves, quite against their will, 
were destined upon a two-years’ voyage to the 
Arctic. Thus as stowaways they began their 


Grumbling Down Forward 


3 


life at sea, and though long since they had 
been rated regular members of the crew, aft 
and forward alike, they were still called “the 
Stowaways.” 

The warm August sun beating down upon 
the deck had renewed a longing for the green 
fields of the kindlier land from which they 
had come, and they were thinking now of 
their own pleasant homes in far-away Mas- 
sachusetts. The contemplation of another 
year in the icebound North was a most un- 
pleasant prospect. 

“I can’t help thinking today of the folks 
at home,” remarked A1 at the end of a long 
silence. 

“That’s what I was thinking about too,” 
confessed Harry. “It seems like another life 
and another world back there — like another 
experience that we passed through in another 
Jife that we lived long ago. And,” he added 
after a pause, “a mighty pleasant one too, 
with all its comforts and friends and warmth 
and happiness.” 

“We’ll appreciate it and know how to keep 
out of foolish scrapes when we get back, any- 


4 


The Young Arctic Traders 


how,” observed Al, sprawling at full length 
upon the warm planks. “I don’t think we 
half knew how well off we were. We took 
everything for granted, as most people do 
with the good things of life. Everybody 
wants something he hasn’t got, and when he 
gets it he wants something else. I hated 
school like poison, and couldn’t see the need 
of study. Now I’d give ten years of my life 
to be back at it. I was just thinking that we’ll 
be two years behind our class in college, but 
I guess what we’ve had up here will be worth 
it.” 

“You bet it will!” agreed Harry. “But I 
can’t help thinking about the folks and what 
they’re doing.” Harry stretched himself by 
Al’s side. “If I could only look in at home 
for a day or two I wouldn’t mind another 
year of it, Al.” 

“We’d better not think of home or we’ll be 
getting homesick,” warned Al. “It won’t 
help us any. We’re in the mess and we’ve 
got to take our medicine till we’ve swallowed 
the last drop.” 

“Maybe if we could get another right 


Grumbling Down Forward 


5 


whale 1 before winter sets in the old man 
would go home this fall,” suggested Harry 
wistfully. “With one more whale we’d have 
every oil cask filled.” 

“But we’d miss the winter’s trade, and 
that’s a big item,” A1 discouraged. “The old 
man wouldn’t sacrifice that just because 
there’s growling down forward, and I don’t 
blame him. He’s here to do a job and that’s 
to get all he can out of a two-years’ voyage, 
and he’ll do it. I would too if I were in his 
place, no matter how much I wanted to go 
home, and I guess the old man wants to go 
home as badly as any of us.” 

“I’m glad we didn’t sign the round robin. 
Shanks and Spuds refused to sign it too,” said 
Harry. “Ole asked them last night, Shanks 
says.” 

“And you can bet neither Daddy nor the 
Sky Pilot signed it either.” A1 lowered his 
voice and looked around to satisfy himself no 
one was listening. “There won’t be any round 
robin sent to the old man. Marx and Inko- 

1 The sperm whale, a species highly valued by whalemen, both 
for the quantity of oil it produces and for its bone. 


6 


The Young Arctic Traders 


vitch don’t want it. They just sent that 
around to see how everyone stood. They 
don’t care whether we go home or not. 
They’ve got some scheme of their own, and 
they’re playing the crew to help them put it 
over.” 

“They’re certainly trying to get something 
started,” Harry agreed. 

“There’s going to be trouble before the Sea 
Lion gets into her winter berth, too,” A1 pre- 
dicted. “Marx and Inkovitch are anarchists. 
They are talking it every chance they have. 
They’re a tough pair. I believe they’d kill 
a man with no more compunction than they’d 
kill a seal.” 

“I believe it! Ole is mixed up with them, 
too.” Harry lowered his voice as he spoke. 

“Yes,” agreed Al, “but Ole isn’t such a bad 
fellow if they’d leave him alone. They seem 
to have him scared. I believe he’d break with 
them if he dared, but they’ve got some power 
over him and he’s afraid to.” 

“Sometimes I think he was mixed up with 
them in something before they came aboard,” 
suggested Al. “Those two are the reddest * 


Grumbling Down Forward 


7 


kind of anarchists, and Ole’s square head 
hasn’t brains enough in it to keep him 
straight.” 

“I know how the rest of the crew feel about 
going home.” Harry was sitting up now and 
looking wistfully out over the sea. “They’re 
just homesick for a look in at their folks. Jim- 
iny, how I’d like to go home myself!” 

“So would I! Wouldn’t it be ripping to 
get back this fall?” Al’s face lighted eagerly 
with the thought. “But,” he added soberly, 
“that’s out of the question, and the less we 
think about it the better off we’ll be. Marx 
and Inkovitch are trying to work up the crew 
to help them start something just on that. 
They know the men are getting restless to go 
home, and they’re taking advantage of it and 
playing it for all it’s worth.” 

“Here comes Shanks,” broke in Harry. “I 
wonder what they’re going to give us for din- 
ner.” 

“Some of that fishy bear’s meat likely,” 
laughed Al. 

Shanks, the cook’s assistant, discovering his 
friends forward in the bow, joined them. 


8 


The Young Arctic Traders 


Shanks was a striking figure. He was more 
than six feet in height, which appeared to be 
made up largely of a pair of long spindly 
legs to which were attached extraordinarily 
large feet. At the other end of his anatomy 
two keen, blue eyes looked out from beneath 
a shock of tawny yellow hair. His face was 
punctuated by a nose of unusual size, and ears 
like horns of plenty stood out from the head 
and made no claims to beauty, though a prom- 
inent and impressive as well as necessary ad- 
junct to Shanks’ features. His wide mouth 
was now grinning good-naturedly. 

“Hello, fellers!” said Shanks, squatting 
upon the deck with A1 and Harry. “It’s hot 
as all tarnation down in the galley, and Spuds 
can’t help gabbin’ about his ancestors that 
came over in the Mayflower. I had to break 
away for a breath of air and a squint at the 
sunshine.” 

“Those mythical ancestors of his is about 
all Spuds cares to talk about, when he can 
find anybody to listen,” remarked Harry. 

“I can’t help listenin’. I can’t get away 
from it when he’s got me busy helpin’ him, 


Grumbling Down Forward 


9 


and I guess he hunts for somethin’ for me to 
do sometimes so’s to have me there to talk 
at,” Shanks grinned. “He got started today 
over this stuff Marx is tryin’ to work up — 
makin’ the old man go home with the ship 
this winter.” 

“Harry was just saying those fellows had 
been after you and Spuds on that too, and you 
turned ’em down,” said Al. 

“You bet we turned ’em down,” said 
Shanks, “and Spuds dressed ’em down too. 
They’re a passel of idjets. Two or three of ’em 
are tryin’ their durndest to kick up trouble, 
doggone ’em. The rest of ’em are a flock of 
sheep ready to foller any leader comes along. 
Crews always get fidgety and discontented 
and nothin’ goes right with ’em after they’ve 
been at sea a year or so. They just naturally 
growl because they hate themselves and 
everybody else, and don’t know what else to 
do. That’s the way the crew was on the other 
voyage I was on.” 

“Inkovitch, Marx, and Ole Johnson are at 
the head of it,” suggested Al. 

“Yep. A fine bunch of yappers they be 


IO 


The Young Arctic Traders 


too, the hull three of ’em. Far’s I’m con- 
cerned I’d just as lief be here as anywheres, 
and so would Spuds. He says there wa’n’t 
no kickin’ up a fuss on the Mayflower,” 
Shanks grinned. “He’ll be after me in a min- 
ute. I’m gettin’ dinner. I’ve got a hunk of 
white bear’s meat in the oven roastin’ on’t.” 

“I hope you parboiled it,” Harry sug- 
gested. “That we had yesterday was so 
strong it could stand alone, and it was so fishy 
it would swim if you put it in water.” 

“There you be,” grinned Shanks, “findin’ 
fault and growlin’ just like a reg’lar hard- 
boiled whaler.” 

“I guess you’re right,” smiled Harry. “It’s 
in the air to growl and find fault.” 

“Well, I gave her a double parboil,” 
Shanks assured. “She looks fine and she’ll 
be all right.” 

“What else are you going to have?” asked 
A1 expectantly. “I’m as hungry as a whale.” 

“You fellers are always hungrier’n 
whales,” Shanks grinned. “How’d fresh as- 
paragus and green corn, with strawberry 
shortcake to top off with, suit you?” 


Grumbling Down Forward 


II 


“Stop that or I’ll throw you overboard 1” 
A1 assumed a threatening attitude. “You’ll 
make us homesick.” 

“Well, I was askin’ how you’d like it,” 
Shanks laughed. “You ain’t goin’ to get it. 
We’ve got a bang-up dinner just the same. 
You’re goin’ to eat baked macaroni and 
cheese, canned corn, and boiled rice. How 
does that sound to you? Think it’ll go good 
with the bear’s meat?” 

“I can’t wait!” A1 placed his hands on his 
stomach and rolled his eyes. 

“Spuds is fryin’ doughnuts,” suggested 
Shanks. “That’s the reason he ain’t missed 
me yet. If he hadn’t been so busy at ’em he’d 
been hollerin’ for me long ago.” 

“Doughnuts!” exclaimed Harry. “I won- 
der if we could work him for some while 
they’re hot? Think we could, Shanks? What 
kind of humor is he in?” 

“Shanks! Shanks, where be you?” came 
from the galley at that instant, and a moment 
later Spuds’ head appeared at the galley door. 
“There you be havin’ a good time, leavin’ 
me to do everything alone! Come right 


12 


The Young Arctic Traders 


smack down to the galley, Shanks, and look 
after dinner.” 

“I’m cornin’,” and Shanks, who had 
stretched himself at full length upon the 
sunny deck, reluctantly arose. “Come along, 
fellers. If you get him talkin’ about his May- 
flower ancestors, and josh him along some, 
Mr. A. Puddingford Spuddington’ll come 
across with the hot doughnuts all right.” 

“It’s a big price to pay,” said A1 with a 
pretense at hesitation. 

“The doughnuts is fine,” assured Shanks 
with a grin. “They’re worth it.” 

“They’ll be worth the price, all right. 
Come along Al, I’m famished for some of 
Spuds’ hot doughnuts,” and Harry and Al 
followed Shanks down into the galley. 


CHAPTER II 

A WARNING 

S PUDS’ corpulent figure, engulfed in a 
great apron that in some prehistoric 
period had doubtless been white, but through 
long divorce from the laundry had acquired 
an uncertain muddy-gray shade, was bending 
over a kettle from which, with a long fork, 
he was transferring deliciously brown, plump 
doughnuts to a pan. 

“Here ’tis seven bells and most dinner time 
and you leavin’ me to do everything,” com- 
plained Spuds in a most injured voice, with- 
out looking up. “ ’Tain’t fair to treat me 
that way, Shanks.” 

“I just ran up for a breath of air. I was 
cornin’ right back, and here I be,” assured 
Shanks. 

“Good morning Mr. Spuddington,” said 
A1 ingratiatingly. “Harry and I are off 
watch, and we came down for a little visit 
with you, if we won’t be in the way.” 

13 


14 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“Good morning Al-fred. Good morning 
Hen-nery.” Spuds looked up, his florid face 
and shiny bald head giving evidence of close 
proximity to the galley range. “You ain’t 
in the way. Set down. I’m always glad to 
see both of you in the galley. You ain’t ever 
in the way here.” 

Spuds discreetly placed the pan of hot 
doughnuts on a table at the opposite side of 
the galley, and as far as possible from his vis- 
itors, quite evidently with the intention of 
removing temptation from their immediate 
reach. This done, he ran the forefinger of 
his right hand over his high, moist forehead, 
and garnering the accumulated perspiration, 
deftly cast the harvest upon the floor. 

“We just wanted a little chat. There aren’t 
many of the crew a fellow can sit down and 
talk with comfortably. You know how it is 
yourself, Mr. Spuddington.” As he spoke A1 
sauntered across the galley to the vicinity of 
the doughnut pan, while Spuds eyed him sus- 
piciously. 

“Yes, I know, Al-fred,” said Spuds, add- 
ing quickly, as A1 quite casually extracted a 


A Warning 


15 


doughnut from the pan and began eating it: 
“Say, them doughnuts is just fried and they’re 
greasy yet, Al-fred. They ain’t very good 
till they’ve stood awhile.” 

“Why this is fine, Mr. Spuddington.” A1 
tossed one over to Harry. “Just try it Harry 
and see if you don’t think so.” 

“It sure is fine!” agreed Harry, biting into 
the doughnut. “You never made any better, 
Mr. Spuddington.” 

“It’s most dinner time, and I’m afraid it 
might spoil your appetites to eat hot dough- 
nuts, and they ain’t very good for the diges- 
tion when they’re hot,” warned Spuds, whose 
concern was evidently centered rather upon 
the possible shrinkage in quantity of his 
doughnuts than upon appetites or digestion. 

“Oh, that’s all right, Mr. Spuddington,” 
A1 assured as he extracted two more from the 
pan and returning to his seat gave Harry one 
of them. “Our appetites are warranted not 
to fade, shrink, or mildew and we both have 
cast-iron digestions.” 

“I was just tellin’ you because I know how 
you likes roast bear’s meat.” Spuds’ anxiety 


i6 


The Young Arctic Traders 


was quite evidently relieved by Al’s return 
to his seat. “Speakin’ of talkin’ with the 
crew, I know how it is. Of course I’m dif- 
ferent from them common fellers. My an- 
cestors came over in the Mayflower, and 
first and last it’s ancestors that counts, now 
ain’t it?” 

“That it is, Mr. Spuddington,” Harry as- 
sured between mouthfuls. “Anybody would 
know you had ancestors just to look at you.” 

“That’s what I says, now,” admitted Spuds, 
vastly pleased with what he deemed a com- 
pliment. “Anybody that had ancestors as old 
as mine, cornin’ over in the Mayflower, can’t 
help bein’ better than the common run, and 
I admit I looks on myself as better’n folks 
what didn’t have ancestors on the Mayflower, 
or leastways just as far back as that.” 

“Of course,” agreed Al, casting his eye 
toward the doughnut pan. “There are people 
who say that it isn’t what a fellow’s ancestors 
were that counts, but it’s what he is himself. 
Even if we were to accept that theory — and 
I don’t say I agree with it by any means, or 
that I do not agree with it — but even if we 


A Warning 


17 


were to accept that theory, Mr. Spudding- 
ton, you would have reason to be proud of 
your personal accomplishments. Yes, sir, I 
repeat it. Mr. A. Puddingford Spuddington 
you would have reason to be proud of your- 
self even if you had never had a single 
ancestor in the world. In view of your honor- 
able ancestors that came over in the May- 
flower you have double reason for pride.” 

“Adolphus Puddingford Spuddington is 
my full name, Al-fred,” corrected Spuds. “I 
likes Adolphus because that was the name of 
one of my original ancestors.” 

“Mr. Adolphus Puddingford Spudding- 
ton,” repeated Al, graciously accepting the 
correction. 

“Of course you have reason to be proud,” 
interjected Harry. “Pd be proud of myself 
if I could cook half as well as you do, Mr. 
Spuddington.” 

“Yes, that’s it,” continued Al. “That’s the 
point! There isn’t a better cook sails the high 
seas than you, Mr. Spuddington. I never ate 
any better doughnuts than you make. They 
are remarkably fine, and no one but a remark- 


i8 


The Young Arctic Traders 


able man could make such remarkable dough- 
nuts.” 

“Do you think so, now?” Spuds’ face 
beamed satisfaction at the compliment. 
“Thank you, Al-fred, and thank you, Hen- 
nery. The crew sometimes growls at my 
cookin’, but you ain’t like them. You’re dif- 
ferent other ways too. I knowed you was 
different the first time I ever clapped eyes on 
you two, and I says to myself then, ‘them 
fellers be fine company. They’re more my 
kind.’ But speakin’ of doughnuts, you ought 
to taste them I makes ashore back home, when 
I has cream to mix ’em with.” 

“These are as good as I want!” enthused 
Harry. “I seldom eat more than one dough- 
nut at a time of the ordinary kind, but I’ve 
eaten two of these and I could eat another one 
this minute. That’s what I think of your 
doughnuts, Mr. Spuddington.” 

“So could I !” declared A1 enthusiastically. 

“Could you? Well now have another,” and 
Spuds, all his batteries of caution and defense 
broken down, passed the pan. 

“Thank you, Mr. Spuddington. I can’t 


A Warning 


19 


resist them,” acknowledged Harry, selecting 
a large one. 

“They are exceptionally fine,” and A1 also 
drew a big fat doughnut from the pan. 
“I don’t see how you do it, Mr. Spuddington! 
It is a real accomplishment to be able to make 
doughnuts like these.” 

“Well, now, it ain’t everybody can do it, 
if I do say it myself,” Spuds modestly ac- 
knowledged. “My folks was always good 
cooks. They was always good at makin’ 
doughnuts and pies. Them’s down East 
things, and I calc’late it’s because my folks 
always lived down East, the first on ’em 
cornin’ over in the Mayflower, as I said be- 
fore. As you was sayin’ Al-fred it’s what 
your ancestors were what counts in the end. 
It is, now, ain’t it?” 

“You’ve demonstrated it, Mr. Spudding- 
ton. You’re a living example,” asserted A1 
gravely. 

At that moment Hiram Hodges, the sea- 
man previously referred to by A1 and Harry 
as the Sky Pilot, looked into the galley, an 
inscrutable expression on his face. 


20 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“Al, may I see you and Harry a moment 
on deck?” he asked. 

“We’ll be right there,” answered Al. 
“Thank you, Mr. Spuddington for the dough- 
nuts.” 

“Yes, thank you ever so much,” said Harry 
as he and Al arose to go. “We’ve had a pleas- 
ant call.” 

“Come sometime when I ain’t so busy and 
we’ll have a good talk,” beamed Spuds as the 
two young men left him. 

“I’d like you to see something, lads. Come 
aft, we can see better there,” said the Sky 
Pilot cheerfully as they joined him on deck. 

Several sailors were gathered at the fore- 
mast. Al and Harry observed that the men 
ceased talking and eyed them suspiciously un- 
til they were out of hearing. 

The Sky Pilot was a sturdy, square-shoul- 
dered, well-built man, wearing a short, sandy 
beard sprinkled with gray. There were good- 
natured wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, 
and though the eyes themselves were habit- 
ually smiling and pleasant, their characteris- 
tic was a straightforward fearlessness that 


A Warning 


21 


gave one the impression of gentleness of spirit 
and at the same time physical bravery and a 
bulldog tenacity of purpose. This latter 
characteristic was borne out by a square-set 
jaw and a thick-set sinewy neck. Though he 
had a pleasant mouth and attractive smile he 
was evidently not a man to be trifled with. 

He led the lads well aft, and out of hear- 
ing of the sailors forward, and standing at 
the port rail pointed to a near-by iceberg 
whose polished adamantine surface was 
sparkling with the brilliancy of wonderful 
emeralds and amethysts. 

“Look at that,” said he, “and pretend to 
be interested in it while I tell you something. 
There’s going to be a mutiny on board and 
I’m afraid it will end in bloodshed. I depend 
upon you lads to stand by the officers when 
the thing breaks loose. Every man in the 
deck crew except you, lads, Daddy, and my- 
self is in the conspiracy, and even the cooper 
has joined them. Marx and Inkovitch, as 
you may guess, are the leaders, and they are 
desperate characters. The others believe they 
are simply to gain possession of the ship for 


22 


The Young Arctic Traders 


the purpose of forcing the captain to take her 
home before winter sets in. I’m sure it is a 
piratical scheme, and Marx and Inkovitch 
intend to steal the ship and valuable cargo, 
and when they have the rest of the crew im- 
plicated, murder those of us who do not take 
part in the mutiny. Do you understand?” 

“Yes,” answered A1 with suppressed ex- 
citement. “Harry and I knew something was 
going on, but we didn’t know it was so des- 
perate as that.” 

“It is,” said the Sky Pilot simply. 

“Shanks and Spuds are not with them,” 
whispered Harry, his heart thumping against 
his chest. 

“No, I was speaking of the deck crew and 
of the cooper,” continued the Sky Pilot. 
“Spuds won’t count for much in a scrimmage, 
but Shanks is a good fighter. I’ve just warned 
the chief mate and advised him to tell the 
captain at once, for it is a most serious mat- 
ter. There’ll be the captain, the mate, the 
second mate, you two lads, Shanks, Daddy, 
and myself to defend the ship. Spuds is too 
fat and slow to be of much help, as I said. 


A Warning 


23 


“Against us are the other nine of the deck 
crew and the cooper, ten in all. So when it 
comes to a show-down there’ll be ten of them 
against eight of us, and they’ll probably be 
armed. They’ll also be primed with rum. 

“You might pass the word on to Shanks, 
and all of you be on the alert, and go to it 
and keep your nerve when the time comes. 
The captain will doubtless take immediate 
measures to head them off. I simply warn 
you so that you may know who are against 
us and who with us, and be on your guard 
accordingly.” 

“All right, we’ll be with you,” said Al. 

“You bet we will!” echoed Harry. 

“Bully for you ! I know you chaps will give 
a good account of yourselves.” 

“When do you think the show will start?” 
asked Al. 

“I don’t know. They’re pretty secret about 
it. Probably not in two or three days, and 
it may be a week. I only got drift of the 
plans half an hour ago, though I knew some- 
thing was brewing. I overheard some of 
them talking.” 


1 


24 


The Young Arctic Traders 


Eight bells struck and the call to dinner. 

“Be natural now,” the Sky Pilot warned as 
they dispersed to go to dinner. “Don’t let 
them know that you have any hint of what’s 
in the wind. Treat everybody as usual.” 


CHAPTER III 

THE FATEFUL THIRTEEN 

“TT)ISH and fiddlesticks !” exclaimed Cap- 

Jt tain Mugford, as he and Mr. Jones, 
the mate, and Mr. Dugmore, the second mate, 
seated themselves at the dinner table in the 
cabin of the Sea Lion. “Pish, I say! Pish 
and fiddlesticks! You’re chicken-hearted, 
Mr. Jones! Chicken-hearted! Chicken- 
hearted! That’s what ails you, sir! You’re 
chicken-hearted !” 

“I’m giving it to you, sir, as Hodges gave 
it to me just now, and I believe it’s as he 
says,” explained the mate. “You must admit, 
sir, that he is in a position to know, and,” Mr. 
Jones added with a hint of resentment, “no- 
body can accuse the Sky Pilot of being 
chicken-hearted.” 

“Pish! Pish, sir! Yes he is! All sky pilots 
are chicken-hearted. But don’t misunder- 
stand me, sir,” the captain hastened to ex- 

25 


26 


The Young Arctic Traders 


plain. “I don’t mean to say that you’re afraid 
to face conditions, or that you’re weak. Far 
from it, sir. Quite the contrary, sir. I be- 
lieve you are overanxious — overcautious. 
Don’t you know, sir, that there was never yet 
a crew of whalers that didn’t complain before 
they were through with their second summer 
at sea? It’s chronic with them, sir. Chronic! 
They’re all alike! They’re all chronic grum- 
blers. I never yet made a voyage, a whaling 
voyage, sir, without hearing threats of trou- 
ble. Never! Used to worry me. Found out 
after a time it was all talk. They always set- 
tle down, sir, aud forget their troubles. Pish 
and fiddlesticks! There’ll be no mutiny, Mr. 
Jones.” 

“Mr. Dugmore and I think it’s worth look- 
ing into at least, sir,” insisted the mate. 
“There’ll be no harm in getting at the bottom 
of it, and if there’s anything to it we’ll be on 
the safe side, and if there isn’t, it’ll do no 
harm.” 

“That is quite true, sir. It is my view of 
the matter that it is best to nip it in the bud, 
so to speak. In other words, sir, crack it on 


The Fateful Thirteen 


27 


the head before it gets up and does any harm. 
That is my firm opinion, sir.” Mr. Dugmore 
caressed his beard affectionately, and spoke 
with dignified precision. 

“Pish! Pish! Mr. Dugmore there’s noth- 
ing to crack on the head! Nothing! Noth- 
ing, I say, sir!” 

Captain Mugford passed a well-filled plate 
to Mr. Dugmore as he spoke, and the latter 
immediately turned his undivided attention 
to the provender, which for the moment, at 
least, was of more importance to him than the 
consideration of a possible mutiny. When 
Mr. Dugmore was “stowing food,” as he 
would have expressed it, other matters, even 
piratical conspiracies, were of comparatively 
small importance. 

“There’s no doubt, sir, that we have two 
Reds in the crew, rank anarchists, Inkovitch 
and Marx,” continued Mr. Jones. “I’ve had 
my eye on those fellows for a good while. 
They’re a pair of cutthroats, and Hodges says 
they’re the ringleaders, and that Johnson is 
pretty close to them. Two or three men like 
these preaching anarchy can cause a good 


28 


The Young Arctic Traders 


deal of unrest in a crew, and might excite 
them to go any lengths.” 

“Pish and fiddlesticks! Can’t be anar- 
chists here! Not on my ship! Have to obey 
orders here!” Captain Mugford was grow- 
ing impatient. “What can two or three do? 
What can they do if they are anarchists, I’d 
like to know? Pish and fiddlesticks, sir! Pish 
and fiddlesticks, I say!” 

“They were connected in some way with 
Billings and Manuel, sir, before those two 
thieves were lost last year,” persisted the 
mate. “You remember that a year ago the 
Stowaways told you of a plan Billings had 
for stealing the ship, and sending the crew 
adrift in the boats? I believe this is a part of 
the same conspiracy, sir, that Inkovitch and 
Marx are planning to carry through.” 

“Yes, yes, I remember all about that,” ad- 
mitted the captain with a chuckle. “Nothing 
to it, sir, nothing to it. Those fellows were 
having sport with the Stowaways, sir. Try- 
ing to frighten them. Told you there was 
nothing to that, too. That’s the way it turned 
out. Nothing to this. Same way now. Noth- 


The Fateful Thirteen 


29 


ing to fear, nothing to fear. Pass over your 
plate, Mr. Dugmore. Let me give you 
another helping of the bear’s meat. It’s very 
good today, sir, very good.” 

Mr. Dugmore had been too busily engaged 
upon the contents of his plate to take part in 
the conversation. He believed in concentrat- 
ing his attention upon the business in which 
he was engaged, particularly at mealtime. 
Now, as he passed his plate, he remarked with 
an air of gloomy foreboding: 

“It is my opinion, sir, that we are in an 
unhappy position, so to speak. You may have 
forgotten, sir, that we sailed on the thirteenth 
day of the month, although I have reminded 
you of the fact upon other occasions. Yes, 
sir, if you will recall we sailed from New 
Bedford on the thirteenth day of July. This, 
sir, is the thirteenth voyage of the Sea Lion, 
an unfortunate coincidence when taken in 
connection with the fact that we sailed on 
the thirteenth. But that, sir, is not the worst. 
That is not the worst by any means. We have 
thirteen in the deck crew, sir.” 

Mr. Dugmore pronounced this with vast 


30 


The Young Arctic Traders 


solemnity, quite as though he were a judge on 
the bench passing sentence of death upon a 
convicted criminal. 

“Pish! Pish!” exclaimed the captain. 

“Three thirteens, sir, as you must admit and 
as every seaman will acknowledge, is a fatal 
combination, a hoodoo combination, so to 
speak,” continued Mr. Dugmore gravely. 
“We might suppose that it could not be 
worse, sir. But it is worse, much worse. 
On top of all that, sir, Hiram Hodges is a 
sky pilot . He don’t deny it, sir, and the crew 
call him ‘the Sky Pilot.’ A sky pilot always 
brings a ship bad luck, sir, and with all these 
thirteens, sir, the vessel is destined to meet dis- 
aster. It never fails. It never fails in the 
face of such signs, sir, and it may be that the 
threatened mutiny is it. The Sea Lion will 
never see New Bedford again, sir.” 

“May be it? May be what, sir?” Captain 
Mugford paused in the act of carving to 
glower at Mr. Dugmore. 

“Disaster, sir. Disaster that is certain to 
overtake us.” Mr. Dugmore pronounced the 
words with slow precision and with studied 


The Fateful Thirteen 


31 


dramatic effect, though with no other effect 
upon Captain Mugford than greatly to irri- 
tate him. 

“Pish! Pish and fiddlesticks! You’ve 
been talking about disaster the whole voyage, 
Dugmore,” said Captain Mugford con- 
temptuously. “You’ve sunk the ship and 
drowned us all nearly every day.” 

Suddenly Captain Mugford’s ill humor 
vanished, and he broke into a hearty, bellow- 
ing laugh. 

“You’re never happy unless you’re miser- 
able, Mr. Dugmore. No, sir, never. We’ve 
had a fine voyage! Fine voyage! Fine luck 
with whales ! One more good catch, and we’ll 
have all the oil we can stow. Nice lot of 
ivory and pelts for the first year. No bad 
luck except losing those two fellows, Billings 
and Manuel, last fall. They were a brace of 
lazy scoundrels. Good luck to lose ’em ! Yes, 
good luck to lose ’em! And here you’re talk- 
ing about bad luck! It’s a bit of humor, sir! 
Yes, a good bit of humor! Can’t help laugh- 
ing at you, sir! Can’t help it!” 

“I think it was good luck to lose those two 


32 


The Young Arctic Traders 


fellows, Billings and Manuel,” ventured Mr. 
Jones. 

“Yes, good luck! Good luck! To be sure 
it was.” 

“But you must admit, sir, that thirteen is 
an unlucky number,” persisted Mr. Dugmore 
solemnly. “A most unlucky number, so to 
speak. I have heard you speak of it yourself 
as an unlucky number, sir. Even if there 
were no other thirteens, we have the thirteen 
in the deck crew, and on top of that the Sky 
Pilot.” 

Mr. Dugmore looked triumphantly at 
Captain Mugford. He felt that he had 
clinched his argument. 

“Pish and fiddlesticks! We had thirteen 
in the crew until the Stowaways were dis- 
covered. Thirteen and two make fifteen. 
Where’s your arithmetic, sir? Where’s your 
arithmetic? Don’t thirteen and two make 
fifteen? Add it, sir, and see! Add it! A 
simple sum!” 

“But, sir ” 

Mr. Dugmore attempted to speak, but Cap- 
tain Mugford was not through. 


The Fateful Thirteen 


33 


“Let me finish, sir! Let me finish what I 
was saying! Hiram Hodges isn’t a sky pilot. 
He was never articled as one. He’s a plain 
sailorman. Good one, too! Good one! By 
the seven seas, I never saw a better! Preaches 
to ’em down forward Sundays just to keep 
’em straight, but that don’t make him a sky 
pilot. Don’t seem to make him any worse 
sailor either! No doubt he’s a sort of wishy- 
washy, sugar and water, namby-pamby fellow 
outside of sailoring. I know his kind. Can’t 
fight, because they won’t. Afraid of hurting 
the other fellow. But he’s a sailor! By hick- 
ory, he is! Knows his business, and does it! 
Smart as they make ’em on deck or in a whale- 
boat! That’s all I care about. All I want to 
know about him. He isn’t a sky pilot! Pish 
and fiddlesticks!” 

“You forget, sir, that after the Stowaways 
were added to the crew we lost Billings and 
Manuel, and that brought the number down 
to thirteen.” Mr. Dugmore looked trium- 
phant. “My arithmetic is correct, sir. Luck 
turned against us, so to speak, and Fate cast 
again upon us the unlucky thirteen.” 


34 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“We’ll call the cooper one of the deck crew 
then to make it fourteen. Throw in Shanks 
and the cook for good measure and make the 
number sixteen,” guffawed the captain. 
“That breaks up your thirteen, Mr, Dug- 
more! No more thirteens on this ship! 
Cheer up, sir! Cheer up! We’re in for the 
best voyage we ever had.” 

Mr. Dugmore did not cheer up. He fin- 
ished his meal gloomily, but this was char- 
acteristic. Though an excellent officer and 
good navigator, superstition was a mania with 
him. He was always watching for ill omens, 
and at every turn he found them as everyone 
does who looks for them. And as is usually 
the case with those who permit superstitions 
to be their master, he lived in constant fear 
of some unknown but impending calamity 
with the quite natural result that he existed 
in a self-created atmosphere of anxiety and 
gloom. 

Nor was Mr. Jones in the least satisfied 
with Captain Mugford’s reception of the Sky 
Pilot’s warning. He, himself, had heard 
something of the rumblings in the forecastle, 


The Fateful Thirteen 


35 


and the Sky Pilot had verified his fear that 
all was not well among the men. For several 
days they had been sulky, and he had observed 
a certain hesitation in obeying orders that 
bordered upon insubordination but was still 
not sufficiently pronounced to warrant dis- 
cipline or more than a sharp, “Look alive 
there!” which usually resulted in quickened 
action. 

The Sky Pilot and Mr. Jones were quite 
right; and Mr. Dugmore for once had not 
gone astray in his premonition that something 
was on foot. 


CHAPTER IV 

A SINISTER THREAT 


HERE was little said in the forecastle 



Jl that day. A suppressed excitement 
among the men was apparent. The Sky Pilot, 
quite as though nothing was on his mind, 
attempted conversation, but none save Joshua 
Tidd, or “Daddy” as everyone aboard ship 
called him, seemed at ease or disposed to talk. 
Daddy, a grizzled old whaler, and quite the 
oldest man in the crew, was a general favorite. 

“I believe Pve never seen the waters so free 
of ice at this season,” remarked the Sky Pilot 
in an effort to break the awkward and omi- 
nous silence. “There’s no pack ice at all.” 

“It has been most thirty years, as near as I 
calc’late, since I remember as clear a sea as 
we’ve got now,” said Daddy. “That’s before 
you remember and I kinder guess before any 
of the crew except myself remembers. I was 
on the old White Gull that year, and we 
sailed clean up into Kane Basin. Melville 


A Sinister Threat 


37 


Sound and Kane Basin were about as clear 
of ice that year as Boston Harbor. I never 
see the like on’t. Mr. Dugmore was cabin 
boy. It was his first v’yage if I recalls right, 
and he wa’n’t over fifteen. Them was the 
days of real whalin’! He was a good lad and 
a good sailor, first and last, but he was always 
expectin’ everything to go to the bowwows. 
And I want to say right here he’s a dangerous 
man in a scrimmage. He’s as good as any 
six, or used to be, and I reckon he ain’t lost 
any of it. I’ve seen him clean up the whole 
deck single-handed.” 

Daddy paused to help himself liberally to 
bear’s meat and macaroni, and when his plate 
was supplied to his satisfaction, he continued 
reminiscently: 

“Them was the days of real whalin’! We 
didn’t putter around tradin’ with the Eskimos 
them days. We were whalin’ on’t. Them 
was great days!” 

“I suppose you didn’t bother with anything 
but right whales?” asked the Sky Pilot, as 
Daddy gave evidence of lapsing into silence. 

“Mostly them,” said Daddy. “There were 


38 The Young Arctic Traders 


plenty of bottle-nose whales over along the 
Baffin Land side and sometimes we’d pick ’em 
up. But they didn’t give us any whalebone, 
and whalebone counted up. There was a lot 
of it used them days in women’s toggery, and 
a big call for it, so we mostly looked for right 
whales, and got ’em too. The White Gull 
was fitted with oil tanks amidships, and we 
never went back without them tanks filled to 
the top.” 

“Weren’t there any vessels fitted out for 
trading with the natives then?” asked Al. 

“There wa’n’t none to speak of north of 
The Labrador. There’s always been tradin’ 
goin’ on there. As I said, none of the whalers 
bothered with trade. That was a different 
line. Whalers in them days went out for 
whales and nothin’ else.” 

“What was the longest voyage you were 
ever on?” asked Harry. 

“The longest one?” Daddy grinned. 
“That was a fool v’yage. I shipped in the 
brig Nancy Hale , and I never see home for 
four years and nine months. The master’s 
name was Loon, and he was about as crazy 


A Sinister Threat 


39 


as they say loons be. You’ve often heard 
folks say ‘crazy as a loon.’ Well that was 
him. He got it in his dotty head there was a 
fortune in sulphur-bottoms. We’d heard a 
lot about ’em, and I must say we young fellers 
were ready enough to take a go at ’em. They 
were reported thick south of Cape Horn, and 
they was. We found ’em down in the Ant- 
arctic seas, plenty on ’em, but we never killed 
one. The first one we got irons in cut up ruc- 
tions and smashed two boats. They didn’t act 
like ordinary human whales. They was too 
big and too gay for us plain men, them whales 
was.” 

“Did you come back in ballast?” asked the 
Sky Pilot. 

“Nope, that wa’n’t the old man’s way,” 
Daddy chuckled. “We p’inted north to Ber- 
ing Sea, and had one tarnation of a time.” 

“Tell us about it,” said Harry. 

“It’s too long a yarn for one settin’,” Daddy 
objected. “I’ll spin it to you when we get in 
our winter berth, when the old sun goes away 
and leaves us for the long night, and we’re 
wantin’ something to keep us cheerful.” 


40 


The Young Arctic Traders 


Inkovitch looked up. 

“We may not be in a winter berth for the 
long night/’ he hinted ominously. 

“Oh, I reckon we will,” Daddy grinned 
broadly, but his grin was a challenge. 
“Leastways I’m kinder countin’ on’t. I can’t 
remember ever bein’ in the Arctic when we 
could cruise around after winter set in, and 
mostly the sun goes out for a spell in winter 
in these latitudes.” 

Some of the men moved restlessly. They 
recognized the challenge. Inkovitch made 
no retort, and Daddy fell silent until dinner 
was finished. 

“That kinder shet that feller off,” said 
Daddy in an aside to A1 when they were on 
deck. “Some day I’ll tell you fellers about 
the v’yage of the Nancy Hale. The old man 
turned pirate, and I was a full-blown pirate 
for nigh a year, but I couldn’t help it. I had 
all the piratin’ I wanted, and my advice to 
you young fellers is not to get mixed up in 
that sort of thing if you can keep out of it, 
and I reckon you can these days in these seas.” 

“You bet we’ll keep out of it!” said Al, 


A Sinister Threat 


41 


catching the drift of Daddy’s warning to take 
no part in any mutinous action of the crew. 

That afternoon when A1 and Harry were 
busy on deck, the German, Marx, approached 
them bluntly with the question? 

“Veil, how apout eet?” 

“How about what?” asked Al. 

“You know veil enough how apout vat,” 
snapped the German. “That Sky Pilot, he 
tell you alreaty yet, und you alreaty know 
vat eet ess ve are to do vithout heem telling 
you.” 

“You’ll have to make yourself plain and 
tell us what you’re driving at, Marx,” Al 
insisted. 

“You Stowaways are not plind und dumb 
yet, und you are not mitout ears to hear,” said 
Marx insolently. “Now I vant to know vonce 
how apout eet. Vat side haff you alreaty 
make up your mind to take?” 

“We’re not mind readers, either of us,” Al 
had decided to force Marx to a definite state- 
ment of the plans of the mutineers. “We 
don’t propose to guess at what you’re driving 


42 


The Young Arctic Traders 


at. If you’ve got anything to say, come out 
with it.” 

“You do not haff to be a mind reader to 
know vat apout it ess I speak. The Sky Pilot 
tells you alreaty ven he makes pelief show you 
a perg,” Marx eyed A1 and Harry malevo- 
lently through narrowed lids, though the lat- 
ter, busy with a halyard, did not speak or 
evince interest in the conversation. “I am not 
yet a fool, und you are not a fool alreaty.” 

“If you have anything to say, say it. I 
haven’t time to guess conundrums,” A1 turned 
to his work. 

“You vill pe guessing conundrums alreaty 
that you do not like to guess,” Marx glowered 
angrily. “If you vill not pe mit the crew 
you vill dake vat it ess that comes mit you, 
und I speak mit you poth. It ess for your 
goot I say vat I say alreaty. All the crew vill 
pe together mit this only that coward, the Sky 
Pilot. He talks mit us apout heaven und hell 
und tamnation und such rot. He ess a coward 
und afraid, und he vill haff somedings to pe 
afraid apout yet.” 

“See here, Marx,” A1 faced the man boldly, 


A Sinister Threat 


43 


“I won’t stand here and permit you to talk 
in that way about the Sky Pilot. I want you 
to know he’s a friend of mine. You’re an 
anarchist, or socialist, as you call yourself, 
which is the same thing these days, and being 
one, you don’t believe in God or heaven or 
hell. But I want to tell you now if you’re 
itching to start anything on this ship go ahead 
and start it this minute and you’ll believe in 
hell before you get through. Now get away 
from here or I’ll start something myself! I 
don’t want to hear any more of your blatting!” 

“You vill feel a knife in your heart yet, for 
this!” Marx was in a white rage. 

Harry heard the threat, and seizing a mar- 
linespike, faced the German. 

“If you don’t get out of here I’ll give you 
what’s coming to you right now! There 
won’t be any waiting!” he threatened. 

“Und there vill pe a knife for you also! 
You vill poth go to feed the fishes, und the 
Sky Pilot he vill go mit you!” 

Marx walked away, and A1 and Harry saw 
him presently talking with Inkovitch, and the 
two eying them. 


44 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“Those two will do just what Marx threat- 
ened, n said Harry. “They’re a desperate 
pair.” 

“Captain Mugford knows all about this 
scheme. Mr. Jones has told him, and they’ll 
take care of Marx and Inkovitch,” assured A1 
confidently. “Those fellows won’t dare try 
any knifing until they mutiny openly, and 
Captain Mugford will head them off so there 
won’t be any mutiny. There’s nothing to be 
afraid of for the present, at least.” 

“The officers haven’t done anything yet,” 
suggested Harry uneasily. “It seems to me 
the proper time to head the thing off is now 
before it gets started.” 

“They’ve probably got some plan,” insisted 
Al. “Captain Mugford is an old whaler, and 
he knows how to handle these things.” 

“Anyhow it’s up to us to keep an eye on 
Marx and Inkovitch,” said Harry, not wholly 
at ease. “I wouldn’t trust ’em for a single 
minute.” 

“Of course we’ll keep our eye on ’em, but 
I wish we were armed,” suggested Al. 

“So do I,” said Harry. “I don’t believe 


A Sinister Threat 


45 


there’s a revolver on the ship, unless the 
officers have them, and I hope they have.” 

“They’ve got them,” A1 glanced toward 
Marx and Inkovitch, “and those fellows have 
too. They’re probably carrying guns this 
minute, and there’s no doubt they’ve got 
knives stowed away in their clothes.” 


CHAPTER V 

THE OUTLAWS CONSPIRE 

I N THE forward part of the hold and just 
aft of the forecastle was a small room in 
which were stored the less bulky articles of 
trade when unpacked from the boxes, such 
as cloth, thread, needles, axes, ammunition, 
guns, and what not. The space enclosed in 
the room had formerly been a part of the 
forecastle, and was separated from it by a 
temporary thin board partition, and one in 
the room could easily hear conversation con- 
ducted in ordinary tones in the sailors’ quar- 
ters. 

Here, an hour or two after the dispute with 
Marx, A1 was sent by Mr. Jones to put the 
room in order and to unpack fresh goods. 
It was a dark room, and lighting a lantern 
which he hung upon a hook suspended from a 
beam overhead, he drew from his pocket the 
list of goods to be unpacked, and had scarcely 
46 


The Outlaws Conspire 


47i 


begun to examine it, preparatory to beginning 
his work, when he became aware that some 
men were descending from the deck into the 
forecastle. Recognizing Marx’s voice, A1 
made no movement to betray his presence, 
and listened. After a moment the voice of 
a sailor on the opposite side of the partition 
asked : 

“What did you say to ’em Marx?” 

“Vat vas it did I say? I say that they vill 
feel a knife in their hearts vonce yet, und I 
say that coward, the Sky Pilot, vill also yet 
feel a knife in his heart, und they vill all go 
to feed the fishes.” 

“They ain’t square, them fellers. A knife 
ain’t none too good for ’em.” A1 could hear 
the man spit. “If they was square they’d 
come in with the crew on this deal. They’re 
scabs, that’s what I says.” 

“That ess vat it ees. They are scabs,” 
agreed Marx. 

“The way you and Inkovitch is doin’ 
though sounds like talk. It’s all wind and 
nothin’ doin’, that’s what I says,” the other 
continued, and A1 recognized the voice as that 


48 The Young Arctic Traders 


of a sailor named Levine, a rough fellow, but 
one who had always displayed considerable 
friendship for himself and Harry. “Them 
Stowaways and this here Sky Pilot is too high 
and mighty. They’ll make trouble for us yet. 
The Sky Pilot’s a scab I says just like the 
Stowaways be.” 

“It ess not talk mit me. I vill do vat I 
say,” boasted Marx. “Vat you mean the vay 
me und Inkovitch does?” 

“You fellers have been talkin’ about get- 
tin’ the thing started for a week now, and ain’t 
done nothin’,” Levine gave a grunt of con- 
tempt. “Why don’t we do it and have it over 
with? That’s what I says. I’m for doin’ 
things and gettin r ’em done. That’s me.” 

“I says that to Inkovitch alreaty vonce,” 
explained Marx, “und Inkovitch he says he 
will first vait und kill von more whale yet 
to fill the casks. Then the ship it vill half a 
better cargo and vill pe of more value ven we 
take her, und ve can take the ship when we 
get reaty to take her.” 

“We may not kill another whale before the 
ice catches us,” objected Levine. “Then 


The Outlaws Conspire 


49 


what’ll we do? That’s what I wants to 
know.” 

“We vill vait von veek, und if then we kill 
no whale yet, we vill take the ship,” promised 
Marx. 

“I’m for doin’ things and not puttin’ ’em 
off. That’s me.” Levine spit again. “Put- 
tin’ off is bad, and there’s a chance some of 
the crew’ll weaken, that’s what I says. Now 
I wants to know how long we’ll be standin’ 
off. I’ll be startin’ the thing myself, I will, 
if somebody else don’t. That’s me.” 

“Don’t pe in a hurry und the thing vill 
come right,” counseled Marx. “Let us pe 
patient un kill von more whale. Then we 
vill vatch oud und get the officers py them- 
selves alone, und vonce we haff them oud of 
the way, the others vill pe alreaty done. They 
vill pe of no accound in fighting.” 

“I can’t stand the old man’s blowing around 
much longer,” said Levine. “The mate’s get- 
tin’ on to us too, and they’ll be headin’ us off 
some way if we waits, that’s what I says.” 

“It ess not possible yet to head us off,” 
argued Marx. “All the crew are mit us but 


$0 The Young Arctic Traders 

the Sky Pilot, und he ess a coward, und 
Daddy Tidd, und he ess too old to fight, und 
the Stowaways, und they vill pe afraid ven 
the fight comes und do noddings ven they see 
a knife und a gun.” 

“There’s Shanks. He can do something. 
Count ’em all in, that’s what I says,” 
prompted Levine. 

“Shanks, he vill pe noddings,” sneered 
Marx. “No more vill Spuds. He ees too fat 
to make himself get oud of his own vay 
vonce.” 

“All of ’em put together will give us a tus- 
sle, with the cap’n and the two mates, and the 
sooner it’s done the better, I says for one. 
Ain’t I right, now?” asked Levine. 

“It vill pe goot ven it ess over vonce, but as 
I am telling you, we vill first get ourselves 
rid of the officers,” said Marx. “But you lis- 
ten to me now, Levine. You vill keep your 
quietness and do your vork goot und say nod- 
dings to make trouble. You hear vat I say, 
now?” 

“Oh, I won’t be making no trouble till you 
gives the word,” said Levine. “Seems to me 


/ 


The Outlaws Conspire 51 

you’ve been sayin’ things to make trouble 
ahead of time yourself.” 

“Vat vas it now I say to make trouble?” 
asked Marx sharply. 

“You told the Stowaways you’d get ’em. 
You says yourself you told ’em you’d knife 
’em,” accused Levine. “If that ain’t sayin’ 
somethin’ to make trouble I’d like to know 
it, that’s what I says.” 

“Yes, I say that,” admitted Marx. “But 
the Stowaways vill make no trouble mit my 
saying it. Captain Mugford would just pe 
saying I vas having fun mit them. I vill stick 
them mit a knife, though!” he added venom- 
ously. 

“When you goin’ to stick ’em?” asked 
Levine. “If you stick ’em the cap’n won’t 
be sayin’ you’re just having fun with ’em, 
that’s what I says.” 

“I vill not stick them till comes the fight, 
you fool!” Marx was showing temper. 
“Then it ees I vill stick them vonce und heave 
them to the fishes into the sea overpoard, und 
then we vill heave the Sky Pilot over to keep 
them company also. Und after them vill go 


52 


The Young Arctic Traders 


the captain und the mates und that old dod- 
dering Daddy Tidd.” 

“That’s the talk!” said Levine. “That’s 
business now, that’s what I says. Dead men 
can’t talk. But you says nothin’ of Spuds and 
Shanks. Do they go too?” 

“They’ll get the same,” assured Marx. 

“That’s business! You’re a man, now, 
Marx! You’re the sort of man I likes, that’s 
what I says. Overboard they all goes, good 
and dead first, good and dead, and then there’s 
nobody to talk and make trouble. A dead 
man’s worth two live ones for keepin’ quiet. 
That’s what I says. That’s me.” A1 could 
hear Levine chuckle. 

“Und you vill keep quiet und do your vork 
till the time it comes to take the ship?” asked 
Marx. 

“Yes, I’ll keep quiet all right,” agreed 
Levine. 

“We vill do vat you call pull her off vonce 
yet, und everypody leaves it to Inkovitch und 
me,” said Marx with satisfaction. “A fine 
cargo we vill haff. The hold ees filled alreaty 
yet mit oil und fine ivory und furs.” 


The Outlaws Conspire 


53 


“How are we goin’ to get away with the 
swag? That’s what I want to know?” asked 
Levine. 

“Vith the vat?” Marx appeared puzzled. 

“The swag, the cargo? The vessel’s reg- 
istered and if we go into any civilized port 
we’ll have to fix up a story that’ll go, that’s 
what I says.” 

“That, too, Inkovitch und I vill handle,” 
assured Marx. “We vill sail to Europe, und 
we vill make rid of the cargo at goot prices.” 

“That’s the talk! That’s what I says! 
That’s me!” enthused Levine. “Get a bow- 
line on the officers and the scabs. Get a bow- 
line on ’em that won’t slip. Good and dead. 
Good and dead. That’s what I says. Pitch 
’em overboard to mess with the seals and wal- 
rus. That’s me. Seals and walrus can’t talk, 
and the sea’s big. Put ’em where they’ll never 
be heard from and never peep or squeal. 
That’s the talk! That’s what I says.” 

“We vill fix them where the fishes vill eat 
them, und they vill never squeal vonce,” 
chuckled Marx. 

“That’s talkin’ now! That’s the way to 


54 


The Young Arctic Traders 


treat ’em! Put ’em where none of ’em’ll ever 
squeal!” A1 could hear Marx squirt tobacco 
juice. “Yo.u’re a man, Marx, you’re a man. 
Got the nerve. That’s what counts, that’s 
what I says. No squeamishness. Finish the 
thing right, that’s what I says. That’s me.” 

“It must be finished right,” agreed Marx, 
“und we vill jhen sail as we please.” 

“But how about findin’ your port?” asked 
Levine with sudden concern. “How about 
that now? There’s not a man of us knows the 
way of takin’ a squint at the sun for latitude 
and longitude, and there’s not a man among 
us can lay a course as I knows of. That’s what 
I wants to know now?” 

“We can sail by headlands from here to 
The Labrador,” explained Marx, “und ven we 
get vonce alreaty ofj The Labrador, we can 
make a compass course east to Europe.” 

“The sea’s big,” Levine spat. “I for one 
don’t fancy floatin’ around till the water casks 
is empty and the grub’s gone. Not me for 
that, now.” 

“There vill pe none of that,” Marx assured. 
“A compass course east vill take us to 


The Outlaws Conspire 


55 


Europe, und alreaty vonce we sight the land 
we can find oud the place we are, und vonce 
again sail py headlands. Inkovitch he has 
sailed all the northern coast of Europe al- 
reaty, und myself I haff sailed all the southern 
coast, und vonce we haff found our land we 
vill know how it ees the course to make.” 

“All right,” agreed Levine. “It’s up to 
Inkovitch and you, if you know how to do it. 
I can hold her to a course if I has it, but I 
never could lay the course.” 

“It ees veil to haff some rifles hid in our 
bunks alreaty,” suggested Marx. “I haff 
made alreaty two boards loose, und we can 
go in the room here vat they haff to keep 
the rifles und trading goods. You vill keep 
vatch now, Levine, und I vill go in und get 
the rifles und some cartridges, und we can 
hide them in our bunks, und I can put the 
boards pack vonce again. No von vill know 
we take them, und they vill pe reaty when the 
time comes.” 

“That’s business, now,” agreed Levine. 
“I’ll keep watch.” 

“Is the vay clear?” asked Marx after a mo- 


56 The Young Arctic Traders 


mentis waiting, doubtless to give Levine time 
to reach the door at the head of the stairs lead- 
ing to the deck. 

“It’s all right,” came Levine’s voice from 
the distance. 

Al’s heart beat fast and hard against his 
chest as he heard Marx fumbling with the 
board partition. There was not sufficient 
time to extinguish the lantern and retreat, and 
if Marx entered the room and saw the 
lighted lantern he would know that he and 
Levine had been overheard and would search 
the hold, for A1 could scarcely reach the deck 
without discovery. Marx was undoubtedly 
armed and A1 was not. If Marx found him 
in the hold he could kill him with little dan- 
ger of being overheard above decks. Marx 
could easily hide his body among the oil casks, 
and his disappearance would only lead to the 
conclusion that he had fallen overboard. 

These thoughts flashed through Al’s mind 
while he heard Marx working with the 
boards. Suddenly his eye fell upon an un- 
loaded rifle and he seized it. He could hold 
Marx off with it. 


The Outlaws Conspire 


57 


Then he heard Marx’s voice: 

“Levine, come down vonce again!” 

“What you want?” Levine asked a moment 
later. 

“I haff put von screw in each board to hold 
heem, und I cannot find where it ees I put 
the screwdriver,” explained Marx. 

“I haven’t seen it,” said Levine. Then, 
after a moment, “here she is. You’ll have to 
work fast, now, that’s what I says.” 

Al, meanwhile, had lost no time. The de- 
lay had given him an opportunity to lift the 
lantern from the hook, slip out into the hold, 
and cautiously close the door leading from 
the hold into the storeroom. Silently he 
dropped the bolt into place on the outside. 
Now, extinguishing the light, he listened. 

In a moment he heard Marx enter the 
room, and assured he was appropriating rifles 
and ammunition Al returned to the deck to 
report to Mr. Jones what had taken place. 


CHAPTER VI 
CAPTAIN MUGFORD’S STRATEGY 

AL SAW Levine at the door of the for- 
ii ward deckhouse, rolling his quid in his 
cheek and apparently enjoying a prospect of 
the afternoon sea. To all appearances he was 
simply a rough and inoffensive seaman. No 
one would have suspected him, as he stood 
there, of being the desperado and cutthroat 
that A1 now knew him to be, and A1 shud- 
dered as he looked at him. Levine was one 
of the sailors who had been kind to A1 and 
Harry when they were the butt of the crew, 
and had always been a favorite with them. 

“Fine day for these parts, mate,” he 
greeted good-naturedly as A1 passed him. 

Hurrying aft A1 found Mr. Jones reading 
the taffrail log. 

“Mr. Jones, sir, I have something of im- 
portance to report,” announced A1 excitedly. 

“Well, report,” said Mr. Jones shortly. 

58 


Captain Mugford’ s Strategy 59 


“It’s in connection with what the Sky Pilot 
told you yesterday, sir,” said Al. 

Quickly as possible and with few words 
he told of the encounter of himself and Harry 
with Marx during the afternoon; of Marx’s 
threat; and finally of his own recent experi- 
ence in the storeroom and the conversation 
he had overheard between Marx and Levine. 

“Come with me!” commanded the mate. 

Al followed Mr. Jones below and into the 
cabin, where they found Captain Mugford 
poring over a chart. 

“Captain Mugford, sir, Knowles has some- 
thing to report to you in connection with 
what I told you concerning the threatened 
mutiny,” announced Mr. Jones quite as 
though it were an everyday occurrence to 
have a mutiny. “It is interesting, sir, for he 
has details of the plans of the mutineers, and 
knows definitely the leaders as well as the 
men concerned in it.” 

“Pish!” exclaimed Captain Mugford, an- 
noyed at the interruption. “Don’t believe it! 
Don’t believe a word of it! Just ordinary 
grumbling of the crew! Well, why don’t 


6o 


The Young Arctic Traders 


you tell me what you have to say? Go ahead 
and tell me ! Haven’t time to waste !” 

“Marx came to Harry and me this after- 
noon, sir, to induce us to join the mutineers, 
and because we refused threatened to knife 
us and heave us overboard the first chance 
he has,” A1 began. 

“Knife you! Threatened to knife you? 
And on my ship? Won’t have it! Won’t 
have my Stowaways knifed and hove over- 
board! Think too much of you two fellows! 
Trained you to be good sailors and can’t spare 
you! No, can’t spare you! Sit down, Al! 
Sit down! What you standing for when 
there’s a seat? Sitting is much easier than 
standing, unless you’re tired of sitting! Sit 
right down!” 

Al seated himself, not quite sure whether 
Captain Mugford was treating the affair as a 
joke or seriously. 

“Go on with your yarn, now. Always 
ready to hear a good yarn.” 

Despite his apparently frivolous reception 
of Al, Captain Mugford listened attentively 
and without an interruption to Al’s account of 


Captain Mugford's Strategy 61 


the storeroom episode. Then turning to Mr. 
Jones, he asked seriously: 

“What do you make of it, Mr. Jones? 
Can’t believe it possible. Sounds bad, 
though! Sounds bad! Mistaken in my men! 
Have I been mistaken in them? Trusted them 
all, too! Trusted them all!” 

“There’s no doubt it’s serious, sir, and de- 
serves prompt action,” said Mr. Jones. 

“Yes! Yes! No doubt! No doubt it 
does!” repeated the captain, for a moment 
preoccupied. 

“We should recover those rifles that have 
been hidden in the bunks, sir,” suggested Mr. 
Jones. 

“Let’s see now! Let’s see now how many 
are in their gang, and how many with us? 
Count ’em up, Mr. Jones!” 

“Besides yourself, sir, Mr. Dugmore and 

myself, there’s Daddy Tidd ” 

“A good man! Good man if he is a bit 
over age!” interrupted Captain Mugford. 
“Brave as a lion! A regular shark in a fight! 
Not as nimble as he was once! That’s against 
him, Mr. Jones! That’s against him!” 


62 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“And Hodges, the Sky Pilot — ” con- 
tinued Mr. Jones. 

“Hodges! Kind of milk-and-water, sancti- 
monious, brotherly love sort of fellow!” 
Captain Mugford shook his head. “Good 
sailor, obeys orders and knows his business, 
but he’ll turn out no good in a scrimmage! 
Afraid of hurting somebody! Those religi- 
ous fellows won’t fight, Mr. Jones. Let ’em 
crack him on one cheek and he’ll turn the 
other to ’em. Then they’ll bat him over the 
head and overboard he goes, just a carcass. 
Go on, Mr. Jones!” 

“I don’t agree with you about the Sky 
Pilot. I think he’ll fight if it comes to that,” 
suggested Mr. Jones. 

“He’ll fight all right, sir,” A1 ventured in 
defense of his friend. 

“Hope he will, but don’t believe it! Go 
on, sir!” the captain directed impatiently. 

“Spuds, the cook ” 

“Pish! Pish and fiddlesticks!” Captain 
Mugford broke in impatiently. “Be in the 
way! Good cook! Best cook I # ever had, but 
just a jelly-fish in a fight! Too fat, and no 


Captain Mugford’s Strategy 63 


spunk or grit! No more use in a fight than 
a ten-year-old schoolgirl! Couldn’t fight!” 

“Shanks, Knowles here, and Metford are 
the only other ones,” summarized Mr. Jones. 

“Yes! Yes! I see! Three youngsters! 
May be pretty good in a scrimmage, though!” 
Captain Mugford scrutinized A1 closely. 
“Broad shouldered, plenty of muscle, quick 
as a weasel! Not a match for some of those 
fellows fo’ard, though! Put up a good fight 
anyhow, both of the Stowaways! Plenty of 
grit! That counts! Shanks a bit too spindly! 
Not so good, but gritty and alive! He’ll help 
too! He’ll help!” 

“Including yourself, the second mate, and 
me, that makes eight of us, counting Spuds 
and everybody, and there are ten in the gang 
of mutineers and all of ’em as tough as tarred 
rope and as husky as whales and as devilish as 
sharks,” said Mr. Jones. 

“Don’t count the cook or the Sky Pilot! 
Can’t count on them! Only six of us, sir! 
Only six, and three of ’em youngsters!” cor- 
rected the captain. “But Dugmore’s as good 
as any three of ’em! Bad man in a fight! 


6 4 


The Young Arctic Traders 


You’re another, sir! You’re another fighter, 
if you’ll permit me to say so. Yes, sir, you’re 
a fighter! Fist like a hammer!” 

“I’ll try to do my share if there’s to be any 
fighting,” said Mr. Jones modestly. 

“Yes, to be sure you will! To be sure you 
will! I’ve seen you fight, sir, and I know 
what you can do,” Captain Mugford nodded 
approvingly at Mr. Jones. 

“I’m sure you are underestimating the 
Sky Pilot, sir,” suggested Al. “I believe if it 
comes to a show-down you’ll find him as good 
a fighter as he is a sailor, if it’s to fight in de- 
fense of the ship.” 

“Pish!” Captain Mugford never hesitated 
to express his views. “Too much brotherly 
love! Too religious! He’ll stand up and 
try to preach to ’em! Tell ’em to be gentle 
and kind! While he’s talking they’ll stick a 
knife in his gizzard as they’ve promised and 
heave him overboard. Can’t count on him! 
Sky pilots are all alike!” 

“I’m sure you’re mistaken in this case,” 
insisted Al, at the risk of seeming to argue. 

“Hope so! Hope so!” Captain Mugford 


Captain Mug ford* s Strategy 6$ 


took a turn or two up and down the cabin, 
and then sitting down abruptly, asked: 

“Mr. Jones, sir, what do you think we had 
better do? I’d like to maroon the leaders on 
an iceberg, and leave ’em there to cool off! 
That would cool ’em off! Yes, sir, that would 
cool ’em off! But we can’t do it! Just talk! 
Just talk, sir! We can’t do it!” 

“My advice, sir,” counseled Mr. Jones, “is 
to take hold of the matter at once. It is bet- 
ter to settle it before the thing breaks out 
than afterward.” 

“Not too fast, sir! Not too fast!” objected 
the captain. “They’re armed. They’re 
stronger than we are. Have to handle the 
thing right or they’ll master us. Yes, sir, 
have to handle it right.” 

“That’s true too, sir,” admitted Mr. Jones. 
“I was not thinking of those rifles they’ve 
stolen.” 

“Have to think of those things, sir! Have 
to think of ’em! How does this strike you, 
sir?” The captain leaned back in his chair. 
“They won’t do anything until we kill an- 
other whale, if we kill one within a week. 


66 


The Young Arctic Traders 


If we don’t kill one within a week, then 
they’ll take a fling at us anyhow. We must 
get those rifles by hook or by crook in the 
next three days. Yes, sir, in the next three 
days to make sure of ’em. Then some fine 
morning I’ll take the fling myself. Get ’em 
in the in’ards! Yes, sir, we’ll get ’em in the 
in’ards!” 

“How will you handle it, sir?” asked Mr. 
Jones. 

“We’ll arm Daddy Tidd, the Stowaways 
and Shanks, and you and Dugmore and my- 
self, and for show it’ll do no harm to put a 
rifle in the Sky Pilot’s hands, though he’d 
never point it at a man. We’ll be armed 
and they’ll not be armed and we’ll have ’em! 
Yes, sir, we’ll have ’em! And by the ghost 
of Jonah’s whale I’ll show ’em who’s mas- 
ter of this ship! I’ll show ’em!” 

“What’s your plan, sir, for searching the 
fo’c’s’le for arms?” asked Mr. Jones. “If 
we go to the fo’c’s’le to search they’ll know 
what’s up, and we’ll have ’em on our backs 
at once.” 

“There’s that Eskimo hunting place just 


Captain Mugford’s Strategy 67 


to the nuth’ard of Cape Parry, sir,” explained 
Captain Mugford. “We’ll stop there for 
trade. We’ll keep the Stowaways and Shanks 
aboard, and send all the others ashore with 
Daddy to get fresh water for the tank. While 
they’re gone we’ll search for arms. How 
does that strike you, sir? How does that 
strike you?” 

“Perhaps it’ll work out. It’s the best plan 
at present, so far as I can see,” said Mr. Jones 
rather doubtfully. 

“Of course it’ll work out! Of course it 
will! Can’t fail! The guns’ll be out of their 
reach, and they’ll not miss ’em until they’re 
ready to make their strike,” Captain Mug- 
ford chuckled. “Never miss ’em! Before 
that, we’ll make our strike! Yes, sir, we’ll 
make our strike, and by the seven seas ’twill 
be a strike they’ll remember, every cutthroat 
of ’em! Remember it till the day they die! 
Yes, sir, they’ll remember it, and they’ll learn 
who’s master of this ship! We’ll give ’em a 
lesson they’ll not forget! Give ’em a lesson, 
sir!” 

At that moment the voice of the lookout in 


68 


The Young Arctic Traders 


the barrel aloft came floating down through 
the open doorway of the cabin: 

“T-h-e-r-e she blows! T-h-e-r-e she blows !” 

The three men were electrified and sprang 
to their feet. 

“There’s the whale they’ve been waiting 
for!” exclaimed Mr. Jones. 

“Yes, that’s it! That’s it! Keep the Stowa- 
ways and Shanks aboard ship, sir!” directed 
Captain Mugford. “Send the cooper to man 
an oar in one of the boats!” 


CHAPTER VII 

THE WHALE HUNT 

O UITE as though nothing unusual were 
on foot, and no mutiny in the air, the 
men, excited as whalemen always are when 
a whale is sighted, were at their posts when 
Captain Mugford and Mr. Jones with A1 
trailing behind reached the deck. 

“Where ahoy?” bellowed Captain Mug- 
ford. 

“About four points off the port bow, sir!” 
came the answer from the lookout in the bar- 
rel. “Heading sou’west, sir!” 

Necessary orders were given to change the 
course of the vessel to intercept the whale, 
boats were swung out on the davits, and all 
made ready for the chase. 

Mr. Jones, in accordance with Captain 
Mugford’s directions, ordered Harry to take 
the wheel, A1 was sent aloft to relieve the 
man in the barrel, and the cooper was ordered 
69 


7o 


The Young Arctic Traders 


to a boat to man an oar. Shanks’ duties kept 
him aboard ship without special instructions. 

Mr. Jones and Mr. Dugmore each com- 
manded a boat, and Daddy Tidd in one and 
the Sky Pilot in the other served as harpoon 
gunners. Thus, when the boats should be 
away during the chase, Captain Mugford, 
Al, Harry, Shanks, and Spuds were to be the 
only men aboard the Sea Lion. 

Presently the whale spouted again, off the 
starboard bow this time, and not above half a 
mile distant. The boats were lowered away 
and manned and off they pulled for the whale. 

Al, who had taken the position of the look- 
out in the barrel, was immediately ordered 
below by Captain Mugford. 

“Now Al, look alive! Look alive!” 
ordered the captain. “Search for arms! 
Take Shanks with you! I’ll remain on deck 
and trust to you! Get everything! Every- 
thing I say! Don’t leave a gun or a knife 
for those cutthroats! Trust to you now! 
Look alive!” 

“Aye, aye, sir!” and Al called Shanks to 
follow him into the forecastle. 


The Whale Hunt 


71 


As they went below A1 hurriedly told 
Shanks of the conversation he had overheard 
between Marx and Levine, and with all haste 
they began a search of the bunks. 

“Here’s one!” exclaimed Al, drawing a 
rifle from beneath a mattress. 

“And here’s one!” said Shanks, drawing 
another from the next bunk. 

Presently they had uncovered ten carefully 
hidden rifles, the magazines of all fully 
loaded with ball cartridges. The bunks were 
remade and restored as nearly as possible to 
their former appearance, and then a search 
was made of the men’s sea chests. Four dirks, 
two revolvers, and additional supplies of car- 
tridges were discovered. 

“That seems to be all,” said Al finally. 

“Guess so,” and Shanks grinned. “Won’t 
them fellers be surprised? They meant busi- 
ness all right, dod ding ’em! I’d like to blis- 
ter their hides with a rope end.” 

“We’ll take the stuff on deck,” directed 
Al. 

“Found ’em, didn’t you? Yes, found ’em! 
Regular arsenal!” beamed Captain Mugford. 


72 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“Got everything? Didn’t overlook anything?” 

“No, sir,” assured Al, “we got everything. 
We searched every bunk and every chest.” 

“Good! Good! Take the stuff all into the 
hold, now!” directed Captain Mugford. 
“Remove all guns, ammunition, knives, or 
anything else that might be used as weapons 
from the storeroom! You understand, now, 
everything! Put ’em in the hold! Lock the 
door between storeroom and hold so they can’t 
get in there! That’ll fix ’em! Yes, that’ll fix 
’em, the dirty sharks! Look alive, now, you 
rascals! Look alive!” 

Al and Shanks “looked alive.” There was 
a two-inch oak partition between the hold and 
the storeroom, quite different from the thin 
makeshift partition between the storeroom 
and the forecastle; and a heavy oak door fitted 
with bolt and lock rendered it secure against 
any efforts the mutineers might make to enter. 
Ten minutes’ active work was sufficient to 
clear the storeroom of arms and ammunition. 
Then the bolt was shot, the heavy padlock 
snapped, and Al and Shanks returned to the 
deck to report to Captain Mugford. 


The Whale Hunt 


73 


“Good work, lads! Good work! Guess 
we’ve got ’em now! Got ’em now, all right!” 
chuckled the captain. 

Then the hatches were closed, and Captain 
Mugford himself clamped down the iron bars 
that secured them and locked the bars into 
place. 

There was breathing time n.ow for A1 and 
Shanks, and they joined Harry at the wheel 
to relate what had occurred. 

“We’ve had a narrow escape,” Harry de- 
clared, no less wrought up at the murderous 
plans than A1 had been. 

“We’re not through with ’em yet,” A1 pre- 
dicted. “They haven’t the guns, but there are 
ten of ’em against eight of us, and we may as 
well say seven of us, for Spuds don’t count. 
He wouldn’t be of any use in a fight, he’s too 
fat. They may get us yet. Inkovitch, Marx, 
and Levine are desperate men. I don’t trust 
any of the others now, either.” 

“Yes,” agreed Harry, “and Ole Johnson 
will be a bad man in a fight too. I think he’s 
as deep in it as any of them.” 

“And this mornin’ I reckoned it was just 


74 


The Young Arctic Traders 


the natural growlin’ of the crew we always 
have,” said Shanks. “You couldn’t have 
made me believe it, now, if I hadn’t seen them 
guns and pig stickers and revolvers with my 
own eyes. They’re goin’ to give us a tussle, 
you bet, before they’re through. They’ll be 
mad as all git out when they find we’ve 
skinned the fo’c’s’le!” 

“We’ll be all right if they don’t find out 
before Captain Mugford breaks his surprise 
on ’em,” suggested Al. “If they find out first 
they’ll have the best of it.” 

“He’ll likely get movin’ tomorrow,” said 
Shanks. “He ain’t much on puttin’ things off 
when he gets good and riled up like he is now. 
I wish it hadn’t gone out of style to truss fel- 
lers up like them and give ’em the cat-o’-nine- 
tails. They need it, and they deserve all that’s 
cornin’ to ’em.” 

“You tough old sea salt!” Harry laughed. 
“You know you’d lay it on light when the 
time came. You wouldn’t have the heart to 
hurt ’em much.” 

“Maybe I wouldn’t like to do it if it came 
to that,” grinned Shanks, “but just now I feel 


The Whale Hunt 


75 


like I would take some joy in it. It would be 
kinder like pumpkin pie to me” 

“The trouble with Captain Mugford is 
that he trusts his men too much,” said Al. 
“It’s hard for him to believe any of ’em would 
go wrong. He does a lot of blustering, but 
he’s as tender-hearted and kind as a woman. 
I’m afraid when it comes to a show-down that 
he’ll be too easy with ’em. Like as not he’ll 
let ’em all off in the end with a blowing up.” 

“He’s the easiest feller I ever saw, mostly,” 
.agreed Shanks, “but when he’s good and riled 
he’s a terror. I reckon he’s feelin’ that way 
now, and he won’t show the bosses of this 
pirate gang much quarter when it comes to a 
show-down. You just hold on to the riggin’ 
and look out for what’s goin’ to happen.” 

“Maybe,” suggested Harry seriously, “the 
other fellows will have the best of it.” 

“We needn’t look for any quarter from 
them,” said Shanks. “They’re reg’lar cut- 
throats. If they lick us we can say good-bye 
to New Bedford. We’ll never see it again. 
It’ll be kingdom come for us.” 

“Marks, Levine, and Inkovitch are Reds 


7 6 The Young Arctic Traders 


anyhow, and human life has no value to 
them,” A1 shuddered at the recollection of his 
recent experience. 

“Have you said anything to Spuds about 
what has been going on?” asked Harry. 

“Nope. ’Twouldn’t do. He talks too 
much. He’d go blattin’ it right off, and tellin’ 
’em how they’d have handled fellers like them 
in the Mayflower . He knows about the 
growlin’ of course and the talk of a round 
robin. He heard that from them, but that’s 
about all.” 

“I wonder what’s up!” exclaimed Al, sud- 
denly. “The boats don’t seem to be doing 
much.” 

The boats were now upwards of a mile 
and a half from the ship. They had evidently 
discontinued the chase, but were quite too far 
away for the occupants to be seen distinctly. 

“Well,” said Shanks after a long scrutiny, 
“I can’t make it out.” 

“Neither can I,” said Harry, “but there’s 
something up.” 


CHAPTER VIII 

LEVINE MAKES A PROPOSITION 

C APTAIN MUGFORD was closely 
scrutinizing the boats through his glass. 
For several minutes he watched intently. 
He was evidently not pleased with what he 
saw, for he presently exclaimed: 

“By the ghost of Jonah’s whale! Land lub- 
bers! Pish! Lost him! There he blows to 
the lee’ard! Steering for Baffin Land and 
making a good six knots! Pish! Missed 
him! Can’t get him now! Can’t get him! 
Bunglers! Bunglers! Land lubbers! Just 
land lubbers! Pish! Pish!” 

Captain Mugford was addressing these 
fragmentary exclamations to himself. He 
had quite forgotten for the time the threat- 
ened mutiny, and was experiencing a vast ill 
humor because his men had failed to get irons 
into the whale. Lowering his glass in dis- 
gust he strode aft. Whales were not plenti- 
77 


7 8 The Young Arctic Traders 


ful, and it was no small disappointment that 
a right whale, with his fortune of oil and 
bone, should have been allowed to escape. 

“The boats are coming back,” said Al, “and 
the old man is in a huff because they let the 
whale get away from them.” 

“He was goin’ up wind to beat election,” 
said Shanks. “They never could catch up 
with him against the wind. The old man 
knows it too, but it kinder puts him out of 
sorts. It’s the way with everybody when they 
lose somethin’ they think is theirs sure. ’Tain’t 
no use countin’ the pullets and roosters you’re 
goin’ to have till after the old hen gets 
through settin’, and sometimes she leaves the 
nest before the eggs are hatched. The old 
man won’t blame ’em any. He’ll just swaller 
it and be all right when they come back. 
That’s his way.” 

“I wonder what Marx and those fellows 
will do now?” suggested Harry. “I wonder 
if they’ll wait the week out for another 
whale?” 

“Nobody knows what them fellers’ll do, 
but I reckon the old man won’t wait the 


Levine Makes a Proposition 


79 


week out. He’ll get things started by today 
or tomorrow,” Shanks predicted. “He’s got 
his back up and he’s riled clean through. 
He’ll spring some little surprise on ’em when 
they ain’t lookin’ for it.” 

“I’ll be glad when it’s over with and set- 
tled,” said Al. “It keeps a fellow on edge all 
the time. We’ve only had one day of it, but 
I don’t see how I can hold everything inside 
me much longer, and I’m sure I’ll explode 
before a week is up.” 

Twenty minutes later the boats were 
hoisted aboard. The men openly expressed 
disappointment at the failure of the hunt, 
but that was natural enough when luck went 
against them. A good right whale had shown 
them its tail and escaped the irons. That was 
bad luck enough, and something to grumble 
about. 

That evening after supper Al and Harry 
observed Marx and Levine emerge from the 
forecastle with faces black as thunderclouds. 
They sought Inkovitch, and immediately the 
three had their heads together talking aside 
in low tones among themselves, and presently 


8o 


The Young Arctic Traders 


Levine sought Ole Johnson and drew him 
into the conference. 

“They’ve found out that the guns have been 
taken,” A1 whispered. “Now I wonder what 
they’ll do.” 

The four continued in what was apparently 
a spirited controversy for ten minutes, then 
Marx and Levine descended into the fore- 
castle while Ole Johnson lighted his pipe and 
stationed himself in the doorway leading to 
the forecastle. A few minutes later Inko- 
vitch, wearing an ugly scowl, had a word 
with Ole and also descended into the fore- 
castle. 

Inkovitch was a tall, large-boned man, 
about forty years of age. He had thick, bushy 
black hair, swarthy skin, and wore a stubby 
black beard, and below shaggy black eyebrows 
there appeared beady, suspicious, shiftless 
eyes. The officers rated him a good sailor, 
but he was a sullen fellow generally, though 
he seemed to have the power to dominate the 
forecastle, and the majority of the men ac- 
cepted him without question as their leader. 

Inkovitch spoke English with no percep- 


Levine Makes a Proposition 8li 

tible foreign accent, and boasted that he could 
speak three other languages with equal 
fluency, an accomplishment of which he was 
proud. When a boy of thirteen he had emi- 
grated to America with his parents. Here 
he lived until he was twenty, when he drifted 
back again to his native land and entered the 
Russian Navy. 

At the expiration of his enlistment he con- 
tinued at sea as a sailor on merchant ships, 
until, as he boasted, he was caught with a 
group of Nihilists to whom he had attached 
himself, and was sentenced to a long term of 
servitude in Siberian mines. Two years later 
he escaped, and in disguise made his way 
back into Russia, took part in the assassina- 
tion of a grand duke, stowed away in a Brit- 
ish merchantman, and eventually returned to 
the United States. 

This, at least, was the man’s own story of 
his life. The crew generally looked upon 
him as a hero. The Sky Pilot, however, be- 
lieved him a most ordinary criminal rather 
than the champion of liberty that he pro- 
claimed himself to be, a measure of the man 


82 


The Young Arctic Traders 


based upon long observation of his ilk found 
in the United States. Daddy Tidd, too, held 
the man in supreme contempt. One day when 
Inkovitch had been relating his adventures 
to a group of admiring sailors, Daddy looked 
up and, in his quiet way, remarked : 

“You’ve had a holdful of bad dreams in 
your day, Inkovitch. You sure can spin some 
yarns about ’em too. Tell the truth for once. 
Didn’t they ship you over Siberia way for 
plain stealin’?” 

“What do you mean by that?” asked Inko- 
vitch, glowering at Daddy. “Don’t you be- 
lieve me? Do you mean to call me a thief?” 

“Oh, I ain’t saying how much of your yarn 
is true and how much of it ain’t true,” 
drawled Daddy, “but I reckon if your past 
life was put in dry dock the bottom would 
show up pretty foul.” 

Inkovitch arose and would have struck 
Daddy down but for the interference of the 
other sailors, with all of whom Daddy was 
a favorite. Inkovitch, however, never forgot 
the incident and never forgave Daddy. 

It was a half-hour before Marx, Levine, 


Levine Makes a Proposition 83 


and Inkovitch returned to the deck, and when 
they did their faces were black enough. A 1 
and Harry had no doubt they had, in the in- 
terval, examined the storeroom and discov- 
ered that it was empty. 

There was no change, however, in the at- 
titude of the men toward the officers, save 
perhaps an increased sullenness on the part 
of Inkovitch and Marx. But they did their 
work without protest or hint that anything 
unusual had taken place. 

Levine was better able than the others to 
disguise his feelings, and before they were 
summoned to evening mess had assumed a 
decidedly cheerful exterior. Though he as 
well as his fellow-conspirators were doubt- 
less aware that the Stowaways and Shanks, 
at least, were concerned in the removal of 
the arms from the forecastle and storeroom, 
Levine hailed Harry good-naturedly after 
supper, quite as though they were the best of 
friends : 

“Too bad we lost that oil and bone, now 
wa’n’t it? He were a fine one too. But we 
can’t get ’em all, now, can we? That’s what 


84 The Young Arctic Traders 


I says. Might as well take things as they 
comes, that’s me. They’ll come anyhow, right 
and wrong, sometimes right and sometimes 
wrong. It’s like pepper and salt, Harry. 
Take the ups and downs now and mix ’em 
with your day’s work and they’re the flavor, 
the downs just like the ups. That’s my way. 
That’s what I says. Just take things as they 
comes.” 

“It’s a pretty good way,” said Harry half 
convinced that after all A1 had been mistaken 
in attaching Levine to the conspiracy. 

“Mostly it is.” Levine drew a plug of 
black tobacco from his pocket, cut a liberal 
piece with his jackknife, and tucked the piece 
into his left cheek. “Mostly it is, and I may 
say it is always. See you fellers, now. See 
how you Stowaways took what was handed 
out and said nothin’, barrin’ the first few days 
when the mate used his fist and Billings the 
rope end and Daddy doused you with a 
bucket 0’ cold water. It wa’n’t right to treat 
you fellers that way, that’s what I says. But 
you took it as it come. No barkin’ or growlin’ 
by you fellers. That shows you’re made of 


Levine Makes a Proposition 85 


the right stuff. That’s the way to take things, 
first and last. That’s what I says.” 

“Yes,” agreed Harry, “and the mate was 
right and so was Daddy. I’ve found it’s a 
pretty good rule to stick with the officers and 
do your work and obey orders, and Daddy’s 
one of my best friends now.” 

“I dunno. Daddy’s a queer fish first and 
last.” Levine shifted his quid. “You think 
he’s your friend and maybe he is and maybe 
he ain’t, now. You can’t tell what Daddy’s 
up to or where he stands. That’s what I says. 
You can’t tell nothin’ about Daddy. He’s 
deep, he is. He ain’t open and aboveboard 
the way you and me is, now. If I likes a 
feller I likes him, and if I don’t like a feller 
I don’t; I’m agin’ him, and I ups and tells 
him so square to his face. Yes, sir, square to 
his face. That’s me, that is. Ain’t that right, 
mate?” 

“Yes?” said Harry with rising inflection. 

“That’s me now,” emphasized Levine. “If 
I likes a feller I’m his friend first and last. 
There’s no tackin’ agin’ the wind on’t neither. 
I’ve told you Stowaways I likes you fellers, 


86 


The Young Arctic Traders 


and I stands by it. That’s me. That’s what 
I says, but I wants my friends to stand by 
me like I stands by them. That’s square, 
now, ain’t it, Harry?” 

“Yes, that’s square,” agreed Harry. 

“ ’Course ’tis,” Levine spat over the rail. 
“But you can’t tell where Daddy stands. Now 
the crew’s gettin’ sick of these waters. We 
has a cargo, and it’s only right we goes back 
to civilized parts, and I don’t know as any- 
body can blame ’em. I can’t blame ’em. 
They wants to get home to spend the winter 
with their folks. They’re right about it, too, 
that’s what I says.” 

“But the captain can’t go till we get a full 
cargo, and we won’t have that till we make 
the winter’s trade,” observed Harry. 

“That’s it. That’s it,” continued Levine. 
“We’ve got more’n our average cargo now, 
and there’s no need to stay for the winter trad- 
ing. The old man’s greedy if he stays for 
it. That’s what I says, but I tries to make 
everybody satisfied to stay by the old man 
right or wrong. That’s me. I stands with 
the officers when I can. The crew’s gettin’ 


Levine Makes a Proposition 87 


worked up over it though, and I don’t know’s 
I can keep ’em from doin’ something rash, 
just to force the old man to go home. The 
crew’s all friends of mine, and if it comes to 
a scrimmage, as like’s not it will, I’ll have to 
take a hand in it and stick with my friends. 
That’s right, now. Stick by your friends. 
That’s what I says.” 

“Do you mean mutiny?” asked Harry in- 
nocently enough, and quite as though it were 
all new to him. 

“ ’Twouldn’t be just what you calls mutiny, 
now,” Levine rolled his quid with his tongue. 
“Not just that, but just enough scrap to make 
the old man see how the crew feels. I hate 
to help in it, but that’s me. I won’t go back 
on my friends if it comes to a fight, and you 
and A1 better come in on’t, Harry. That’s 
my advice as a friend. That’s what I says.” 

>“Who is for it and who isn’t?” asked 
Harry, to draw Levine on. 

“All the crew’s for it but the Sky Pilot,” 
Levine winked his eye. “You know him. 
These religious fellers hain’t got no guts. You 
know that, Harry. The Sky Pilot wouldn’t 


88 


The Young Arctic Traders 


be agin’ nothing, nor for nothin’. That’s him. 
He’s afraid he might get mixed up in a little 
friendly sort of fight with the officers, and 
they might hold it agin’ him afterward, 
which they won’t. They won’t hold nothing 
agin’ nobody. But you and A1 ain’t like that. 
You fellers are just full of grit and guts. I 
always did like you two fellers from the first 
time I sets eyes on you. That’s me. I makes 
up my mind and sticks to it. The crew all 
likes you. They’re your friends, and I says 
to ’em you ain’t the kind of fellers to go back 
on your friends, not you. That’s what I 
thinks of you and Al, and that’s what I says 
to ’em. That’s me, right out with what I 
thinks.” 

“Daddy Tidd isn’t in it, is he?” asked 
Harry. 

“Now he is and he ain’t.” Levine spat 
over the rail. “I hates to say anything agin’ 
a shipmate. That’s me. But Daddy don’t 
stand square by his friends. He plays both 
ends of the rope. He’s wantin’ to see how we 
makes out, and if we has the best of it he’s 
with us, and if he thinks we won’t make out 


Levine Makes a Proposition 89 


he’s agin’ us. That’s him. He’s the friend 
of the strongest side, Daddy is. Friends don’t 
count none with him. That’s wrong, that’s 
what I says.” 

“When do you expect to force the thing?” 
asked Harry. 

“Oh, ’tain’t me, it’s the crew,” protested 
Levine innocently. “It depends on them the 
way they feels. Likely in a few days, for 
they’re gettin’ restless and won’t stand it to 
take a chance of stayin’ in the ice another 
winter. They’re right, too, that’s what I 
says.” 

“Well,” and Harry looked Levine in the 
face, “the captain is master of the ship. A1 
and I will stand by him. We want to go 
home as badly as anyone aboard, but we’ll 
stand by the officers.” 

“You’d better think that over, Harry. I 
never thought you’d go back on your friends 
that way,” said Levine with a shocked and 
sorrowful air. “You two are young fellers 
and I wants to help you do what’s the right 
thing. We’ve got all the men, or leastways 
most of ’em, for goin’ home, and the crew’ll 


90 


The Young Arctic Traders 


have no trouble gettin’ what they wants. If 
the officers and them with ’em don’t give in 
easy it might go hard with ’em. I can’t 
answer for my shipmates when they gets 
started. There’s no tellin’ what lengths they 
may go. They may get rough and hurt some- 
body bad. You fellers better think it over 
and stick with your friends. That’s what I 
says. Think it over, now, Harry.” 

Levine walked away and Harry at the first 
opportunity sought A1 to relate the conver- 
sation. 

“And he’s one of the worst of them!” ex- 
claimed A1 in disgust. “The arms are gone 
and they’re afraid the officers may get the best 
of them. If they had us with them they’d be 
that much stronger. He didn’t tell the truth 
about Daddy, either. Daddy’s loyal and true 
blue as far as the officers and ship are con- 
cerned. That’s a desperate bunch, and they’ll 
stop at nothing.” 


CHAPTER IX 
THE DISCUSSION IN THE CABIN 

T HERE was scarce breeze enough to fill 
the sails, and the following morning 
found the Sea Lion holding off land and well 
out to sea, with Cape Parry barely visible 
upon the eastern horizon. 

With too little headway to counteract the 
drift of tide she was not to venture into the; 
rock-bound harbor, where Captain Mugford 
had hoped to find an Eskimo encampment, 
until better conditions prevailed and suffi- 
cient sailing breeze should spring up to per- 
mit her to hold her course. The sea was 
calm, and the sun shone brilliantly. 

“Wanted to settle those fellows today and 
end this mutiny at once, sir,” announced Cap- 
tain Mugford as he and his two mates sat 
down to breakfast. “Had it all planned last 
night. Decided to send most of ’em ashore, 
reef the sails of those aboard, and take care 
of the rest when they came back to the ship. 
91 


92 


The Young Arctic Traders 


Man the vessel with Eskimos, if we had to. 
Can’t do it now. Too bad there’s no wind, 
but hope it’ll freshen up a bit this afternoon. 
Don’t like to delay! Don’t like it! Want to 
do a thing and get it off my mind when I’ve 
made my plans for it!” 

“Yes, it’s too bad to have to delay it,” 
agreed Mr. Jones. “Every hour’s delay is 
dangerous now, but we can’t help it till we 
get a breeze.” 

“Too many of ’em for us to handle if we 
take ’em all at once,” commented Captain 
Mugford. “Have to wait a day till we can 
get some of ’em ashore and get ’em divided. 
Then we’ll get ’em! Have ’em then where we 
want ’em!” 

“You are wise, sir,” agreed Mr. Jones. “If 
we can divide the gang, as you say, we can 
handle half of them at a time nicely. If our 
men were armed we might do it anyway, and 
I take it you will arm those that are with us 
at the proper time. I’m inclined to think 
that some of their gang, at least, carry revolv- 
ers and probably all of them have knives, 
and if that’s the case they’d have the advan- 


The Discussion in the Cabin 


93 


tage of us, for there are so many more of 
them. But we’ll have to keep at sea and free 
from land till a breeze gives us headway, for 
there’s no advantage in taking the risk of 
drifting on the rocks.” 

“It’s bad to put the matter off, sir.” Mr. 
Dugmore stroked his beard affectionately. 
“I fear bad luck is with us, sir. Thirteen 
men will bring bad luck to any ship, sir. You 
said you would count the cooper as a part of 
the deck crew, but he’s still the cooper and not 
a seaman, and it doesn’t help. There are still 
only the thirteen in the deck crew.” 

“Pish! Pish and fiddlesticks with your 
thirteen, Mr. Dugmore! Don’t talk about 
’em!” Captain Mugford broke in irritably. 

“Very well, sir. It is a fact that cannot be 
remedied at this late date. We are aware of 
it, sir, and I agree with you that it is unneces- 
sary to discuss it,” said Mr. Dugmore with a 
degree of injured dignity. “It is unfortunate 
that you did not bring rifles into the cabin 
yesterday, sir, when there was a chance to do 
it without being seen and without causing 
the mutineers to be on their guard, sir. If 


94 


The Young Arctic Traders 


we attempt now to bring arms from the hold 
we shall have the whole gang on our heads 
before we can arm ourselves, for they are on 
the watch and will permit us to take no ad- 
vantage, so to speak. I am sure you will 
agree with me, sir. But as I have said, sir, 
luck is against us. It will probably make 
little difference what we do, or what precau- 
tions we take at this late date, sir. This was 
destined from the beginning to be an unlucky 
and disastrous voyage. We tempted Fate, so 
to speak, sir, and those who tempt Fate are 
sure to pay the penalty in the end.” 

“Pish! Pish and fiddlesticks! Tempted 
nothing!” Captain Mugford was quite out of 
patience. “I’m tired of this thirteen and bad 
luck talk, sir! We’ve had a fine voyage, sir! 
You should overcome your foolish supersti- 
tions! That’s what they are, sir, foolish! 
That’s what they are, sir, foolish! Foolish! 
Thirteen is as lucky as any number, sir! Yes, 
sir, as lucky as seven or eleven or six or four- 
teen! We can make any number unlucky, sir, 
if we give up to it. Foolish! Foolish super- 
stition!” 


The Discussion in the Cabin 


95 


“I’ve watched them, sir, and I’ve seen the 
way they always end.” Mr. Dugmore shook 
his head solemnly as he accepted a bowl of 
porridge, which the captain had dished up 
while he talked. “They’re not superstitions, 
sir, as some folks think. They’re signs and 
warnings given us by Divine Providence. 
I’ve made a study of ’em all my life, sir.” 

“Pish! Pish! Pish!” exclaimed Captain 
Mugford. “Wasted your time if you have, 
sir! Wasted your time if you’ve spent it 
studying superstitions.” 

Mr. Dugmore was now too deeply en- 
grossed in his porridge to continue the argu- 
ment, and Mr. Jones asked: 

“I understand that we shall take no action 
with the mutineers, sir, until a breeze per- 
mits us to put into harbor?” 

“No, sir, no action. Make as little trouble 
for ourselves as possible. Handle part of ’em 
at a time, and not have the whole crew upon 
us at once,” explained Captain Mugford. 
“When we get to our anchorage send Levine 
and Marx with four men in a whaleboat to 
get water. When they are ashore we can take 


g6 The Young Arctic Traders 


care of Inkovitch and the rest of ’em aboard. 
We’ll put Inkovitch and Johnson in irons! 
Put all of ’em in irons if we have to! Then 
when Levine and Marx come aboard with 
their gang we’ll settle them! Polish ’em off 
that way, sir, with no trouble and no danger. 
No trouble at all, sir! I’ll show ’em! By the 
seven seas, I’ll show ’em! Scum of the sea! 
That’s what they are, scum of the sea! I’ll 
show ’em, sir! I’ll have no mutiny on my 
ship!” 

“We can’t keep ’em in irons all winter, sir,” 
suggested Mr. Dugmore. 

“Will if we have to! Yes, sir, will if 
we have to!” Captain Mugford scowled. 
“They’ll cool off when winter comes. Won’t 
have to keep ’em in irons. Decide that, sir, 
when we get things straightened out. We’ll 
know what to do with ’em when the time 
comes.” 

“Yes,” agreed Mr. Jones, “the first thing 
to do is to put an end to the mutiny.” 

“Exactly! Exactly! Now I have an idea 
for the winter trade,” said Captain Mugford, 
changing the subject suddenly, as though he 


The Discussion in the Cabin 


97 


had already disposed of the mutiny. “We’ll 
set Shanks and the Stowaways up in business 
at Etah. Fine place for trade. They’ll meet 
all the northern Eskimos at Etah. Old ex- 
plorers’ shack there, and we’ll build it over 
for ’em. Fix ’em up fine, and snug, with 
goods to trade with the Eskimos, and plenty 
of grub and coal. They’ll pick up a lot of 
blue foxes and bearskins and ivory. What 
do you think of it, Mr. Jones? How does 
that strike you, Mr. Dugmore?” 

“They’re young, sir, and it’s a great respon- 
sibility,” and Mr. Jones shook his head skep- 
tically. “I wouldn’t want it said that I 
favored leaving those three lads alone with 
the Eskimos for a winter, sir, if anything hap- 
pened to ’em. It’s a job for the best men we 
have, and besides, sir, with the trouble we’re 
having with the crew they’ll be needed 
aboard.” 

“Mr. Jones is quite right, sir. If, by 
chance, sir, our ill luck does not put us in the 
hands of the mutineers, so to speak, and we 
overcome them, sir, we shall need the lads 
aboard,” ventured Mr. Dugmore. 


98 The Young Arctic Traders 


“Pish and fiddlesticks!” Captain Mugford 
exclaimed impatiently. “We’ll fix the crew 
safe enough. Man the ship with Eskimos if 
we have to. Yes, sir, with Eskimos! Those 
lads can take care of themselves and the trade. 
Remember how they shifted for themselves 
and made up with the Eskimos last winter? 
Remember, sir? Remarkable! Remarkable, 
sir! Had to make their own shelter and hunt 
their grub! Made a good hunt on top of it. 
Remarkable! Drove a good bargain with me 
for their pelts, too, the rascals!” Captain 
Mugford chuckled at the recollection. 
“Great lads, those! Yes, sir, great lads!” 

“Yes, sir, they did pretty well,” admitted 
Mr. Jones. 

“Pretty well! They did well, sir, remark- 
ably well! You couldn’t have done so well 
yourself! Not a man on the ship could have 
done so well, sir! Billings and Manuel, with 
all the grub they stole perished!” 

“Nevertheless it’s a risk, sir,” Mr. Jones in- 
sisted. “Luck was with them. They may 
not do so well a second time.” 

“Pish! Pish and fiddlesticks! Pish, I say, 


The Discussion in the Cabin 


99 


sir! Pish!” Captain Mugford pounded his 
fist on the table impatiently. “ ’Twasn’t luck, 
sir! No, sir, ’twasn’t luck! There’s no such 
thing as luck. It was ability and ingenuity. 
They had no grub, no fuel, no shelter, but 
they found a way to get ’em. That’s ability, 
sir, ability! This year they’ll have a good 
shelter, stove, plenty of fuel and grub. They 
can’t fail, sir. Don’t you see the difference? 
Plain as the nose on your face, sir! Yes, sir, 
plain as the nose on your face!” 

“I see the way you look at it, sir,” Mr. 
Jones admitted diplomatically. 

“It’s my opinion, sir, that it’ll not make 
much difference in the end whether the lads 
are on the ship or with the Eskimos,” ven- 
tured Mr. Dugmore as he finished his por- 
ridge. “We’re in an unhappy position, so to 
speak. Luck is against us, sir. All the signs 
point that way, sir.” 

“Pish! Pish!” Captain Mugford exploded. 
“As I’ve said a hundred times, it’s the luck- 
iest voyage we ever had! There is no such 
thing as bad luck! No luck anyhow! No good 
luck or bad luck! It’s ingenuity and resource- 


IOO 


The Young Arctic Traders 


fulness that counts, sir. You’re sinking the 
ship and drowning us all about every day, sir! 
About every day! Every day! Cheer up! 
Cheer up, sir!” 

Mr. Dugmore by force of habit declined 
to “cheer up,” but a plate of fried ham and 
eider duck eggs which Captain Mugford 
passed him served temporarily to quiet his 
apprehensions of disaster, and to occupy his 
attention to the exclusion of further comment, 
and he again lapsed into gloomy silence. 

“Send Shanks and the Stowaways down at 
once, sir. I’ll talk to ’em about spending the 
winter at Etah,” directed Captain Mugford 
when breakfast was finished. 

“Very well, sir,” said Mr. Jones as he and 
Mr. Dugmore mounted to the deck. 


CHAPTER X 
“surrender the ship!” 

C APTAIN MUGFORD was pacing im- 
patiently up and down the cabin when 
Al, Harry, and Shanks presented themselves 
in response to his summons. 

“Here you are! Here you are!” he ex- 
claimed. “Come in! Come in! Want to talk 
with you! How you feeling?” 

“We’re feeling fine and fit, sir!” said AI, 
who usually acted as spokesman. 

“Strong as water bears, sir!” grinned 
Shanks. 

“That’s good! That’s good! Got a job for 
you three!” Captain Mugford took a turn 
up and down the cabin. “Sit down! You 
can hear just as well if you sit! What you 
standing for? Can’t talk to you while you 
stand there like three ninnies! Sit down, I 
say!” 


101 


102 


The Young Arctic Traders 


The three seated themselves, grinning. 

“You Stowaways have grown into regular 
huskies, you rascals. Did you good to knock 
about with the Eskimos last winter. Whal- 
ing’s good for you. Getting to be seamen, 
too. Glad of it! Glad of it! Made men of 
you. Ready for some good hard work?” 

“Yes, sir,” said Al. “We’re ready for what- 
ever comes along.” 

“How are they feeling down forward this 
morning? Hear anything new?” the captain 
suddenly asked. 

“Inkovitch and Marx look ugly. Levine 
doesn’t show his feelings. They’ve got the 
others in a pretty sullen mood, but we 
haven’t heard anything new, and they’re all 
about the same as yesterday,” said Al. 

“Some of ’em looks as if they’ve been swal- 
lerin’ bluin’,” grinned Shanks. “I guess In- 
kovitch and his crowd have been givin’ the 
other fellers some pretty good doses, and 
they’re gettin’ blue and homesick. Some men 
wouldn’t be satisfied if they was fed punkin 
pie three times a day.” 

“I’ll show ’em! I’ll show ’em they can’t 


103 


“Surrender the Ship!” 

mutiny on my ship!” exploded the captain. 
“How do you lads feel about it? Do you 
want to go home?” 

“Of course we’re anxious to go home,” said 
Al, “but we know you will do what is right 
and best, and that it won’t be right to go home 
this year.” 

“We’re having a ripping good time,” 
Harry ventured, “but home will look good to 
us when we get there.” 

“Kinder surprise my folks if I came walk- 
in’ in this fall,” said Shanks as the captain 
turned to him for an expression. “Me and 
Spuds are all right down in the galley. We’re 
goin’ to stick by you and the ship like hot 
tar.” 

“Good! Good!” Captain Mugford beamed. 
“Like to hear that kind of talk! All of us 
want to go home! Can’t go now! Can’t go 
till our work is done! Owners pay us to make 
the best voyage we can in two years. Have 
our biggest trade the second winter. I’d de- 
serve to have my ship and license taken from 
me if I returned now. Yes, deserve that at 
least! Men are articled for two years and 


104 


The Young Arctic Traders 


they’ll stay! By the seven seas, they’ll stay! 
We’ll all stay!” 

“Yes, sir,” ventured Al. 

“Good winter’s job for you three! Good 
job!” The captain seated himself. “Going 
to build a shack at Etah. Know where that 
is? Several leagues farther north than we are 
now. Put a stove in the shack and stow her 
with coal, provisions, and trading goods. 
Stow the shack I mean, not the stove! Stow 
the shack. Put you three rascals in charge. 
Expect you to make a good trade with the 
Eskimos. Give you instructions later, after we 
settle this mutiny. Raise your wages. Lonely 
job and worth it. How do you like that?” 

“Pm game for it, sir,” agreed Al. 

“It’ll be bully!” exclaimed Harry. 

“Me, too,” said Shanks. “But ’twon’t be 
any puddin’ of a job, sir, and I reckon it’s 
worth a middlin’ good raise of wages.” 

“Very well! That’s settled between us then. 
Good! Talk to you about it later. Fix up 
everything in a few days. Glad you like the 
idea. Glad you like it!” Captain Mugford 
was never in better humor. 


“Surrender the Ship!” 


io 5 


“How much more wages do we get, sir?” 
asked Shanks, his Yankee instinct for bargain- 
ing asserting himself. 

“Pish! Pish and fiddlesticks! Don’t bother 
me about wages now. Yes, you’re right. 
May as well settle the wages now. Better un- 
derstand about it in the beginning. You’re 
getting ten dollars a month now. Pay you 
fifteen.” 

“Twenty!” Shanks grinned. “It’s worth 
every cent of twenty a month, sir.” 

“Pish! Pish and fiddlesticks! Too much! 
Too much! Easy time up there at Etah. Do 
nothing but eat and sleep. Tell you what 
I’ll do. If you work and trap fur I’ll buy it 
at same price I paid you last year.” 

“Yes, sir, we’ll trap fur and sell it to you 
at the same price, only it’s worth more, but,” 
insisted Shanks, “we want twenty dollars a 
month wages, too.” 

“It’s worth it, sir,” ventured Al. 

“Pish! Pish! But just to be rid of you I’ll 
pay it. Very well! Very well! Twenty dol- 
lars a month!” 

“Of course you’ll pay us a percentage on 


io6 


The Young Arctic Traders 


what we get in trade too, sir,” grinned Shanks. 
“That’s the reg’lar thing.” 

“Pish! Pish! You robbers! Didn’t I tell 
you to get out of here? What do you want? 
Want the ship and her cargo? Pay you five 
per cent on what you trade. Go on now ! Get 
out of here!” 

“You mean five per cent for each of us, 
sir? Fifteen per cent altogether?” Shanks 
asked with apparent innocence. 

“Pish! Pish and fiddlesticks! Five per cent 
for all of you! Divide five per cent amongst 
you!” 

“Make it ten per cent, sir!” Shanks’ grin 
was infectious, and A1 and Harry joined in it. 

“Very well! Very well! Anything to get 
rid of you! Ten per cent then! Highway rob- 
bers, the three of you! Highway robbers! 
Get out of here now! Get above decks!” 

Captain Mugford’s eyes twinkled humor- 
ously as the three lads left him. He was well 
pleased with the interview. 

“That’s the way with the old man,” re- 
marked Shanks under his breath as they as- 
cended the companionway stairs. “He likes 


“Surrender the Ship!” 


10 7 


to have a feller drive a bargain with him. 
He expected to pay us that all the time. 
Would have paid it anyway like’s not. I 
guess we’ll make out all right up at Etah.” 

A1 was in advance, and as he stepped out 
upon the deck he paused for a moment in 
bewildered astonishment. The crew were 
gathered about the foremast, and Mr. Jones 
and Mr. Dugmore, in a defensive attitude, 
stood amidships facing them. Inkovitch, in 
an angry voice, was demanding the surrender 
of the vessel. 

“What we want is to go home. We got a 
cargo, and we ain’t goin’ to stay in the ice 
another winter,” shouted a sailor from the 
rear of the group. 

“We want the surrender of the ship, and 
we’ll ’tend to that,” demanded Inkovitch. 

“Go down forward every man of you!” 
commanded the mate in cold, even tones. 
“This is mutiny!” 

“Tell the captain! Tell the captain it’s on, 
Harry! Tell him to hurry!” A1 directed as 
Harry reached the top of the companionway 
stairs, and Harry obediently hurried below to 


io8 The Young Arctic Traders 


summon Captain Mugford, while A1 and 
Shanks ran forward to the support of Mr. 
Jones and Mr. Dugmore. At that instant In- 
kovitch drew a revolver and fired upon the 
two officers and the lads. 


CHAPTER XI 

THE DEFENSE OF THE SHIP 


~5 INKOVITCH fired, and nearly si- 



i JL multaneously with the report of his 
revolver, the Sky Pilot’s fist, like a sledge 
hammer, caught him under the jaw and the 
Russian crumpled where he stood. When he 
dropped, his hand shot up spasmodically and 
the revolver flew from his grasp and fell at 
the feet of Daddy Tidd. Levine sprang for 
it, but Daddy was on the alert and kicked it 
into the scuppers out of reach, and in old- 
time sailor fashion, without further provoca- 
tion, hit the nearest man a wallop. The next 
instant the deck was a scene of wild riot. 

A1 and Shanks were in the midst of the 
fight. Men were cursing and striking and 
kicking one another in fierce frenzy. Mr. 
Dugmore, bellowing with rage, charged the 
mutineers like a grenadier, striking right and 
left. Mr. Jones was caught unaware by a 


no 


The Young Arctic Traders 


blow from Ole Johnson, the Swede, which 
stretched him on the deck and put him out 
of the fight, but immediately an uppercut 
from the Sky Pilot’s fist laid Ole unconscious 
by Mr. Jones’ side. 

At that moment Marx, the German, made 
a lunge at A1 with a long dirk. A1 sprang 
aside, but not quickly enough to avoid a cut 
in the left arm. Marx made another lunge 
at him, but A1 seized the man’s hand, and 
with a twist of the wrist, a trick he had 
learned at school, forced the German to drop 
the knife. Then they closed, and as they 
swayed across the deck, A1 realized that his 
enemy was dragging him to the rail with the 
evident intention of throwing him into the 
sea. 

Marx was a larger, stronger man by far 
than Al, and in a struggle of this kind had a 
decided advantage, though Al’s greater agil- 
ity to some extent overcame his handicap of 
strength and size. Presently Al felt the Ger- 
man’s fingers in a vicelike grip upon his 
throat, his eyes bulged, the world was turn- 
ing black before him and he felt himself 





The Sky Pilot’s fist, like a sledge hammer, caught the 

Russian under the jaw 




































































« • 








» 















The Defense of the Ship 


ill 


being lifted. Suddenly the grip upon his 
throat relaxed and he sank upon the deck. 

It required but a moment for Al’s head to 
clear, and he saw Marx stretched at full 
length with blood pouring over his face from 
an ugly scalp wound. Shanks with a mar- 
linespike in his hand was standing over the 
prostrate German. 

“He most had you, Al!” panted Shanks, 
whose face and clothes were bloody from a 
blow he had received on the nose. “I gave 
him a wallop of this marlinespike about the 
right minute!” 

At this instant the voice of Captain Mug- 
ford, like the roar of a mad bull, burst upon 
them, and as Al staggered to his feet he saw 
the captain and Harry running down the 
deck. Both were armed with big revolvers as 
they rushed to the attack from one side, while 
at the other side of the battlefield the rotund 
figure of Spuds, clad in his white apron and 
brandishing a carving knife, was emerging 
from the galley and yelling like a wild 
Apache. 

But the fight, which had lasted less than 


1 1 2 


The Young Arctic Traders 


three minutes, was at an end. Mr. Jones and 
Daddy Tidd, bloody and dazed, were sitting 
upon the deck, together with several of the 
mutineers including Inkovitch and Levine, 
the latter another victim of the Sky Pilot’s 
fist. Mr. Dugmore, oblivious of the fact that 
the fight had been won, was astride a big fel- 
low, pounding him with his fists and whoop- 
ing with joy while the sailor howled for 
mercy. Marx had not stirred. Two of the 
mutineers, weak from punishment, were still 
on their feet but with no further desire to 
fight. 

“Mutiny! Mutiny, will you?” thundered 
Captain Mugford in a great rage. “Mutiny 
on my ship! Haven’t I treated you well? 
Haven’t I fed you? Don’t I pay the highest 
wages and the biggest bonus? And then you 
mutiny! You pirates! Pirates! Yes, pirates, 
and you’ll be handled as pirates deserve! You 
sculpin! You spew of the sea! You whelps 
of she wolves !” 

Inkovitch, still groggy from the Sky Pilot’s 
blow, was rising to his feet. 

“He fired on us, sir, and would have killed 


The Defense of the Ship 


1 13 


some of us, but the Sky Pilot knocked him 
down,” said Shanks through swollen lips. 

“Put him in irons!” roared Captain Mug- 
ford. “Put him in irons! In irons, I say! 
I know him! He’s the leader of this gang 
of pirates! I’ll talk to the others later! I’ll 
get to the bottom of this! I’ll make ’em suf- 
fer! By the ghost of Jonah’s whale, I will! 
Put that pirate in irons, I say!” 

“It was not to kill! It was to scare that I 
fired! It was only to make the ship go home! 
Don’t put me in irons, sir! I’m not a pirate!” 
pleaded Inkovitch. 

“Pish and fiddlesticks!” bellowed Captain 
Mugford. “Pish! Don’t tell me you didn’t 
shoot to kill, you pirate! Pirate! That’s what 
you are! Handle your case later! Won’t have 
pirates on my ship!” 

“The Sky Pilot and Daddy saved the day, 
so to speak, with the assistance of A1 and 
Shanks,” suggested Mr. Dugmore generously, 
at the same time releasing his victim, the 
sailor, and rising to his feet, as Inkovitch, 
under the direction of Mr. Jones was 
marched away by the Sky Pilot to be put in 


(114 The Young Arctic Traders 


irons. “Yes, sir, saved the day, so to speak. 
I may say that the Sky Pilot was as good as 
four men, sir. He gave evidence of being a 
pugilist, which quite astonished me. The 
rest of us would have been overcome, sir, if 
it had not been for the Sky Pilot. These ruf- 
fians would have taken the ship and killed 
us all, sir, if it had not been for the Sky Pilot’s 
remarkable pugilistic skill, and the good 
work which Daddy did.” 

“ ’Twan’t much I done,” protested Daddy. 
“Mr. Dugmore and the Sky Pilot done the 
job, sir.” 

“You proved yourself a good fighter, an 
excellent fighter,” insisted Mr. Dugmore. “I 
admit that I had a part in punishing two or 
three of them. Long Hank, there,” indicat- 
ing the sailor he had just been pommeling, 
“is strong but clumsy. I can chastise him 
easily. The Sky Pilot handled the difficult 
ones. He has a swing and a wallop that is 
beautiful. His uppercut puts ’em to sleep 
every time, sir. If we can get rid of the 
leaders and reduce the crew from thirteen, 
sir, our luck may change. I am satisfied it 


The Defense of the Ship 115 

will, sir. I am quite cheered at the prospect, 
so to speak.” 

“Pish! Pish with your thirteen!” Captain 
Mugford exclaimed impatiently. “Other 
things to think of! We’ll take care of this 
gang of pirates! We’ll have no more mutiny 
here if we have to throw every man of ’em 
overboard! Get ’em together now and search 
’em! Search the fo’c’s’le! I’ll talk to ’em! 
I’ll get to the bottom of this!” 

Marx, stretched upon the deck, had been 
quite overlooked in the confusion, but now 
A1 threw a bucket of water over him and he 
was sufficiently restored to join the mutineers, 
who, sullen, dazed, battered and bloody were 
lined up at the foremast for the inquisition. 
Captain Mugford and Harry, armed with re- 
volvers, and Spuds, still with his carving 
knife, stood guard, while Al, Shanks, and 
Daddy under the direction of Mr. Dugmore, 
searched for weapons. 

No firearms were found save the revolver 
used by Inkovitch, and nothing more danger- 
ous than the usual sailors’ clasp knives, with 
the exception of the dirk which Marx had 


n6 


The Young Arctic Traders 


drawn on A1 and one which Levine had at- 
tempted to use but which he dropped upon 
the deck at the beginning of the fight when 
the Sky Pilot knocked him down. 

“Whose dirks are those? Whose are they?” 
demanded Captain Mugford. 

“Franz Marx had one of ’em, sir,” volun- 
teered Shanks. “He tried to use her on Al, 
but Al made him drop it, and then I laid 
Marx out with a marlinespike.” 

“Drew a knife! Tried to do murder on my 
ship! The scum of the sea! ’Tend to his case 
later! Put him in irons!” 

“I did not vonce draw the knife,” Marx 
protested. “I had it mit my pelt like it ess 
always, und in the fight it fell down. I would 
not use a knife to hurt anypody, sir!” 

“He had it in his hand, sir, and tried his 
darndest to stick it in Al, and was aimin’ to 
throw Al overboard, too,” insisted Shanks. 

“This is a cut he gave me with the knife 
before I made him drop it,” and Al exhibited 
his rent and bloody sleeve. 

“I have no remembering ever of the knife 
in my hand,” protested Marx. “I would not 


The Defense of the Ship 117 

use a knife to hurt anypody. It vos somedings 
else yet what hurt A1 in the arm.” 

“Put him in irons!” commanded Captain 
Mugford. 

“I vill no longer pe of the — vat you call 
him — mit the gang,” pleaded the panic- 
stricken German. “I vill pe mit the crew a 
goot sailor, und you do not put me in irons 
mit Inkovitch, sir. I am through mit mutiny, 
und I vill pe alreaty a goot sailor un do vat 
ees right. I vas made mit the others to go 
mit the fight, und I vas afraid not to go.” 

Pacing up and down before the culprits 
while Marx made his plea, Captain Mugford 
had kept ominously silent. Now, turning 
upon Marx in a frenzy of rage, he exploded 
in an almost inarticulate blast of invectives. 
At length, for lack of breath, he paused for a 
moment and glared at the cowering German, 
looking much like a lion about to spring upon 
it’s prey and rend it to pieces. 

“Be good!” he continued after a moment. 
“Be good! You devilfish! You red-handed 
pirate! Pish! Pish! Pish! You’d cut my 
throat now, if you had the chance! You’d 


ii8 


The Young Arctic Traders 


cut the throat of every man aboard! You yel- 
low pirate, you’d cut ’em! Yes, you’d cut ’em 
if you could! But you won’t have the chance! 
I wouldn’t trust you to swab the deck! You 
even desert your own pirate crew to save your 
yellow skin! Put him in irons! Put that man 
in irons, I say! Take him out of my sight be- 
fore I heave him overboard!” 

As A1 and Daddy led the cringing Marx 
away, Captain Mugford asked: 

“Who had that other knife? Who had it, 
I say? Who is the other man that tried to 
do murder on my ship?” 

“Levine, sir, but he didn’t have a chance 
to use it,” answered the Sky Pilot. 

“Levine! Another of this gang of pirate 
leaders! I know all about him! I know! Put 
him in irons! Put him in irons, I say!” ex- 
ploded Captain Mugford. 

“I wasn’t usin’ a knife, sir,” protested 
Levine. “I tries to have the men do right, I 
does. I says to ’em, ‘the cap’n’ll do what’s 
right by us, men, he will.’ That’s what I says. 
I never did any of the fightin’, sir, not me. I 
was out to try to stop ’em, sir. Stand by the 


The Defense of the Ship 119 

cap’n and the ship, that’s what I says. That’s 
me, square for what’s right all the time. I 
never raised a hand to fight, sir.” 

“He didn’t have a chance to do any of the 
fighting,” broke in Mr. Dugmore. “I saw 
him draw the knife, sir, and before he could 
use it the Sky Pilot put him to sleep, so to 
speak, with an uppercut on the left jaw. It 
was a beautiful wallop, sir, as pretty as I ever 
saw. That’s what’s the matter with his face, 
sir. It surely was a beautiful wallop, sir. A 
fine expression of the pugilistic art, so to 
speak, an art of which, I may say, the Sky 
Pilot is master.” 

“Put him in irons!” commanded the cap- 
tain. “Take him out of my sight! Can’t stand 
the sight of the pirate! Makes me mad! Take 
him away, I say!” 

Harry and Shanks were detailed to deliver 
Levine to Mr. Jones. 

The wheel had been abandoned when the 
fight began, and the Sea Lion was drifting. 
When A1 and Daddy presently returned after 
assisting Mr. Jones to put Marx in irons, A1 
was directed by Mr. Dugmore to bring the: 


120 


The Young Arctic Traders 


vessel up to her course. Captain Mugford 
retired to the cabin, instructing Mr. Dug- 
more to bring the remaining mutineers aft, 
one by one, to be questioned, and to ask Mr. 
Jones to join him in the cabin when Levine, 
the last of the leaders, was securely placed in 
irons. 


CHAPTER XII 

OLE JOHNSON'S CONFESSION 

O NE by one the seven men not in irons 
were conducted to the cabin by Mr. 
Dugmore, and questioned searchingly by 
Captain Mugford and the mate. 

Though the conversation between Marx 
and Levine which A1 had overheard while in 
the storeroom and later reported to the offi- 
cers, had identified the leaders of the mutiny, 
the fact of their leadership, and the extent of 
the conspiracy, was now fully brought out 
and verified. 

It appeared from the testimony that Inko- 
vitch, Marx, and Ole Johnson, the only for- 
eigners in the crew, as well as Levine, had 
been closely associated in a conspiracy with 
Billings and Manuel, the two men who had 
perished the previous fall, and Ole himself 
made a complete and willing confession. 

He stated that Billings had been the orig- 
121 


122 


The Young Arctic Traders 


inal leader of the pirates, and that it was in- 
deed a pirate band organized to capture the 
ship and cargo, and if necessary in the accom- 
plishment of this object to kill the officers and 
such members of the crew as did not belong 
to their band. 

Ole stated that he first met Inkovitch on 
the water front in New Bedford. With other 
sailors he had been drinking. A fight oc- 
curred and a man was killed. While Ole 
had taken no part in the murder, and indeed, 
as he said, was not immediately present at 
the time it occurred, Inkovitch informed him 
that the sailors accused him of it, and that he 
would be arrested and held responsible if 
caught by the police, who were looking for 
him. At the same time, Inkovitch offered to 
hide him and find a berth for him on a 
whaler, where he would be quite safe when 
once out of port. Ole placed himself in the 
hands of Inkovitch, and was thus drawn, by 
fear, into the pirate band. 

Inkovitch and Billings were at this time 
organizing their band. All members of the 
band were to find berths on the same vessel, 


Ole Johnson s Confession 


123 


and it was hoped that they would be strong 
enough to capture at will whatever vessel 
they shipped on at whatever time they de- 
sired. Originally the band consisted of In- 
kovitch, Marx, Levine, Billings, Manuel, a 
Spaniard, Dubinsky, a Russian, and Hertzog, 
a German, with Ole added as a recruit. 

When the Sea Lion was signing on her 
crew, the entire band, all experienced sailors 
and some of them whalers, applied for berths 
and were accepted. On the day before the 
Sea Lion sailed, Hertzog was arrested in New 
Bedford for robbery, and Dubinsky was taken 
suddenly ill and removed to a hospital, and 
the vessel therefore sailed without these two. 
Then it happened that Billings and Manuel 
went adrift on the ice and were lost, and the 
pirate band was four men short of its original 
numbers. 

At the close of the first season in the Arctic 
they were to have confiscated arms from the 
cargo, seized the ship, murdered or sent adrift 
the officers and those of the crew not in sym- 
pathy with them, repaint, rename, and thor- 
oughly disguise the Sea Lion and sail her into 


124 


The Young Arctic Traders 


a Spanish or Portugese port where Manuel 
was to have negotiated a sale of vessel and 
cargo through people with whom he had 
dealt previously. 

The band had been so seriously weakened, 
however, through the loss of the four men 
that it had not seemed advisable to carry out 
their original plan. They were aware that 
the capture of the ship, and the navigation 
of it if captured, would be difficult if not im- 
possible without assistance. 

Inkovitch, who was a professed anarchist, 
had taken command of the band upon the 
death of Billings. Under his direction a sys- 
tematic attempt was made to create a feeling 
of dissatisfaction among those of the crew that 
they believed would respond. All remaining 
members of the crew were Americans. Of 
these they had not succeeded in influencing 
the Sky Pilot, Daddy, Al, Harry, Shanks, and 
Spuds. 

The others, naturally prone to discontent 
after the manner of men long confined to a 
ship with no other association than their fel- 
low-workers, gradually responded to the sug- 


Ole Johnson’s Confession 


125 


gestion that the ship had a sufficiently full 
cargo and there was no good reason why they 
should remain in the Arctic seas through 
another long and trying winter. They were 
at first reluctant to risk arrest for mutiny upon 
reaching New Bedford, but specious argu- 
ments quieted this fear, and the men agreed 
to take part in the demonstration with the 
belief that it was simply to induce the captain 
to return home. ' 

Ole explained that it was the intention of 
Inkovitch during the fight to kill the officers 
and loyal members of the crew. This would 
render the American mutineers equally liable 
at home with Inkovitch and his gang, and it 
was believed that rather than face an accusa- 
tion of murder the men would join readily 
enough in the scheme to steal the ship and 
cargo. 

Though the Americans had insisted at the 
outset that no arms should be used and that 
they would only go as far as fists would carry 
them, Marx and Levine had stolen rifles and 
ammunition from the storeroom, and it was 
the discovery that these had been removed 


126 The Young Arctic Traders 


from the forecastle that hastened the action 
of the morning, in order that they might take 
the officers by surprise and forestall any 
action the captain may have planned. They 
had also missed the revolvers belonging to 
Marx and Levine, and four dirks. Ole was 
certain that if these revolvers had not been 
confiscated murder would have been done, for 
both Levine and Marx were adept with them. 

The American mutineers were primed with 
liquor by Levine that morning and, awaiting 
his opportunity, Inkovitch had ordered the 
attack at a time when the captain, Shanks, 
Al, and Harry were below in the cabin, with 
the expectation that the others would be over- 
come before the captain and the lads could 
join forces with them. 

“I ban drunk when I join the man Inko- 
vitch, sir,” explained Ole. “He ban get me 
drunk and have me sign a paper which say 
I kill the man, and I never was there to the 
place he ban killed. He say he ban have me 
arrested if I don’t come and do as he say. 
On the ship he ban tell me he will kill me if 
I squeal to the officers, and Marx and Levine 


Ole Johnson s Confession 


127 


will also kill me unless I ban stick for the 
fight that I never wanted. I would not use 
the revolver Inkovitch ban give me to kill the 
mate. I ban leave it in my bunk in the 
forecastle. If you ban go and look he is there 
now. If you ban hang me, sir, it is right to 
hang me soon for I was afraid to squeal to 
you when it ban right I squeal.” 

“Pish and fiddlesticks! I won’t hang you, 
Ole, if you’ll promise not to get drunk again 
as long as you live.” Captain Mugford, upon 
getting at the truth of the conspiracy, and 
satisfied that the three chief conspirators were 
caught, was regaining his good humor. 

“I ban promise you that, sir!” said Ole 
heartily. 

A search of the forecastle had already re- 
vealed the revolver in Ole’s bunk. His ex- 
planation of its presence was most satisfactory 
and strengthened his position with Captain 
Mugford, and he was sent back to duty with 
a reprimand and caution to pick his company 
more carefully in future. 

The other mutineers were ashamed and 
contrite enough for the part they had taken 


128 The Young Arctic Traders 


in the fight, and they were vastly angry with 
Inkovitch and Marx when they learned that 
these men had hoodwinked them and made 
them the victims of an anarchistic and pirati- 
cal conspiracy. They had, it was evident, 
intended nothing more than to force the ship 
home before her mission was ended, and 
blinded by the arguments of the leaders, who 
had taken advantage of the general restless- 
ness, they had joined in the fight. 

Crestfallen and ashamed, every man of the 
crew was glad, indeed, to return to his duties 
carrying with him a feeling of intense loyalty 
to Captain Mugford, who, all the men felt, 
was more than generous in refraining from 
subjecting them to well-deserved punishment, 
and for his added assurance that no charge 
against them for their part in the mutiny 
would be made to render them liable to the 
authorities upon their return home. 

The ship was on her course again and 
everything going smoothly, with nothing save 
cuts and bruises to remind of the desperate 
struggle that had taken place on the deck that 
morning. When Captain Mugford with his 


Ole Johnson’s Confession 


129 


mate and second mate sat down to supper that 
evening the captain was in high good humor. 

“Well! Well, we were lucky!” he re- 
marked as he* served the officers. “Lucky, I 
say! Got to the bottom of the trouble and 
no harm done. Caught the three piratical 
scoundrels in their own net. In their own 
net! What do you think of that, Mr. Jones?” 

“I think they’d have got us, sir, if it hadn’t 
been for that sky pilot down forward,” said 
Mr. Jones. “He’s a fighter! I never knew a 
sky pilot before that was worth his salt in a 
scrimmage, but he’s as good as any four men, 
and he’s the best sailor we’ve got, except 
Daddy.” 

“Fine fellow! Fine fellow!” agreed the 
captain with a chuckle. “Never saw any- 
thing finer than the way he was laying those 
fellows out with his fist when I came on deck. 
Sometimes these mild, gentle sort of fellows 
are the best when they get started. Don’t 
blow much, but usually all sand. No use for 
a blower! Don’t like ’em! Don’t like ’em!” 

“He is an able man, sir. I may say a re- 
markable man, so to speak. Quite an unusual 


130 The Young Arctic Traders 


man in many respects,” Mr. Dugmore vol- 
unteered. 

“Yes, so he is! So he is!” Captain Mug- 
ford grinned. “But I believe he is classed by 
you as an omen of bad luck, Mr. Dugmore. 
Bad luck, wasn’t it, sky pilots and thirteens?” 

“It is hard to believe that he is a sky pilot, 
sir,” parried Mr. Dugmore. “No sky pilot 
could reef a sail or splice a rope or fight the 
way he does, sir. I believe, sir, we have mis- 
judged him in classing him as a sky pilot. It 
was a misapprehension, so to speak.” 

“How about thirteen in the deck crew now? 
How about that, sir?” There was a twinkle 
in Captain Mugford’s eyes. “Only ten now! 
Does that end the bad luck of your thirteens?” 

“I am inclined to believe it does, sir,” 
grinned Mr. Dugmore, not oblivious of the 
fact that the captain was having sport at his 
expense. “Those three prisoners are no 
longer a part of the crew, I believe. They 
are outcasts, so to speak.” 

Captain Mugford indulged in a guffaw, in 
which the other officers, now in excellent 
humor, joined, though mildly. 


Ole Johnsons Confession 13 1 

1 

“What are we to do with those fellows, 
sir?” asked Mr. Jones when the captain’s mer- 
riment was satisfied. “We can’t keep ’em in 
irons all winter, and we can’t turn ’em loose 
with the crew.” 

“We’ll let ’em cool their heels! Let ’em 
cool their heels!” said the captain. “After 
we leave the lads at Etah we’ll put ’em 
ashore somewhere south between Etah and 
Westenholm Sound. Leave ’em grub and let 
’em shift with the Eskimos for the winter. 
Cool their heels that way! Pick ’em up next 
summer and turn ’em over to Uncle Sam 
when we get home. He’ll take care of ’em! 
He’ll handle ’em! Give ’em a good long 
job breaking stones, somewhere! Good for 
’em! Good for ’em to break stones! Fine 
exercise for their kind! Keep ’em out of 
mischief!” 

“But they may perish if we leave them that 
way,” Mr. Jones objected. 

“No danger! Have to work and keep at 
it if they live with Eskimos. Good thing to 
keep ’em busy. Give ’em their fill of hard 
work — What’s that rumpus? What’s that 


132 The Young Arctic Traders 

rumpus on deck, sir?” Captain Mugford 
suddenly exclaimed, springing to his feet. 

Mr. Jones and Mr. Dugmore were also on 
their feet. There was the rumble of angry 
voices above decks. Something serious was 
happening. 

“Sounds like another fight!” exclaimed 
Mr. Jones, as the three armed themselves 
with revolvers and dashed for the compan- 
ionway stairs. 


CHAPTER XIII 
LYNCH LAW 

SCENE of confusion that bid fair to 



A- end in another pitched battle met the 
eyes of Captain Mugford and his two mates 
when they reached the deck. 

The three prisoners had been dragged up 
from below decks, and sailors who had pre- 
viously accepted them as leaders, and had 
taken part in the morning mutiny, were now 
cursing and kicking and beating them un- 
mercifully, while the Sky Pilot, Daddy Tidd, 
Al, Harry, and Shanks were endeavoring to 
protect the helpless men from the infuriated 
mob, and Spuds, brandishing a frying pan, 
was adding to the confusion_by hurling dire 
threats at everybody who should attempt to 
do anything he should not do. Inkovitch and 
Marx were begging piteously for mercy, 
while Levine swore defiantly and copiously. 

Captain Mugfoid, in a great rage, dashed 


134 


The Young Arctic Traders 


into the group of angry sailors, and handling 
them as he would have handled a mob of 
squabbling schoolboys, scattered them and 
ordered them to stand back from the cring- 
ing and frightened prisoners. 

“What’s this? What’s this? Another 
mutiny?” he thundered. “Hands off these 
men! They’re my prisoners! Hands off, I 
say! Put you all in irons! Every man of 
you! Every man of you!” 

“We ban going to beat them up and 
heave them overboard,” explained Ole John- 
son stoically, when quiet had been restored. 
“They ban bring us in trouble and bad luck 
to ask us that we mutiny.” 

“They tried to make murderers of us all, 
drat their hides! They ain’t fit to live!” 
shouted one of the men excitedly. 

“They’re surely not fit to die,” argued the 
Sky Pilot. 

“They’re Reds! They’re anarchists! They 
were going to murder us all when we cap- 
tured the vessel for them! They’re thieves 
and murderers!” shouted another. 

“The only way to treat ’em right is to heave 


Lynch Law 


135 


’em overboard and be done with ’em!” vol- 
unteered another. 

“We won’t stay on the ship all winter with 
them aboard!” threatened a sailor. 

“Let us at ’em, sir! Let us heave ’em over- 
board!” plead another. 

The situation was apparent to Captain 
Mugford at once, and he sympathized with 
his men. They had revolted against their 
former leaders upon learning that these lead- 
ers had hoodwinked and deceived them 
concerning the true motive of the mutiny. 
They had supposed that they had simply 
taken part in a demonstration to compel the 
return of the Sea Lion to New Bedford. 
They had expected no more dangerous weap- 
ons would be used than fists. From the 
sailors’ point of view it was to have been 
more or less a friendly affair, ending per- 
haps in a broken head or two. The revolver 
used by Inkovitch, and the dirks by Marx 
and Levine, had opened their eyes to the 
deception practiced upon them. The story 
of the conspiracy, as told the men by Ole 
Johnson, when he was free from fear of 


136 The Young Arctic Traders 


punishment at the hands of Inkovitch and 
Marx, had revealed to them the true object 
and depth of the plot. 

After the fight they had talked the matter 
over among themselves, and worked them- 
selves into a frenzy of resentment and rage. 
This had reached a point where they de- 
manded revenge, and the only revenge that 
occurred to them as adequate, was the imme- 
diate death of the men that they now, in a 
revulsion of feeling, looked upon not only 
as personal enemies but enemies of society 
in general. In this state of mind they had 
attempted to resort to the disgraceful and 
unhappy remedy of lynch law, the law of the 
lawless and unreasoning mob, impatient of 
the necessarily long delay before the accused 
criminals could be brought before a court 
of justice, and by regular and legal methods 
be condemned to expiate their crime. 

“I’ll take care of ’em! I’ll promise you 
that!” Captain Mugford assured in a con- 
ciliatory and sympathetic tone. “They’ll 
wish they’d been heaved overboard before I 
get through with ’em! They’ll wish they 


Lynch Law 


137 


had, everyone of ’em! They’ll wish it! 
Take ’em below, now! Don’t hurt ’em! 
Keep ’em safe! We’ll handle ’em! We’ll 
see to that, men! See to that in fine shape! 
There’s worse punishment than drowning!” 

“The old man’ll do it, too!” said some- 
one. 

“We’ll leave ’em to you, sir,” promised 
another. 

“Yes, we’ll leave ’em to the cap’n, he’ll fix 
’em! He says he will, and by hickory he’ll 
do it!” said another. 

“Cap’n,” said a big sailor stepping for- 
ward, “we’re goin’ to stick by you and the 
ship after this. We’ve got clean over want- 
in’ to go home this fall. There wouldn’t 
have been any trouble in the start off if it 
hadn’t been for them there pirates. We want 
you to know that we’re with you from this 
on. We’ll stand square on that, sir.” 

“Yes! Yes, to be sure!” beamed Captain 
Mugford. “Don’t doubt it! Trust you all. 
Forget what’s happened, now, and we’ll 
finish up the voyage in shipshape. We’ll 
make a good one of it for all of us. Best we 


138 The Young Arctic Traders 


ever had! Yes, best we ever had! We’ll all 
pull together for it!” 

“Three cheers for Cap’n Mugford! The 
best whalin’ cap’n that ever walked a deck!” 
someone called, and the cheers were given 
with a will. 

“All right, men! All right! Thank you, 
men! Thank you!” Captain Mugford fairly 
exuded good humor. “Take the prisoners 
below, now. No man interfere with ’em! 
I’ll depend on you, now!” 

“We’ll leave ’em for you to handle, sir!” 
a tall sailor promised, and the others shouted 
assent, as the prisoners were again taken 
below. 

“We settled that all right! Settled that 
rumpus! No more trouble! All settled!” 
said the captain in high good humor when 
he and Mr. Jones and Mr. Dugmore were 
again seated at table to finish their supper 
in peace and quiet. 

A breeze had sprung up, and that evening 
the Sea Lion rounded Cape Parry and 
anchored in a quiet harbor. As the anchor 
dropped, a dozen kayaks shot out from the 


Lynch Law 


139 


shore and paddled alongside, and the dusky, 
long-haired, fur-clad hunters clambered 
aboard. They were old friends, and two of 
them Shanks, Harry, and A1 had traveled 
and hunted with the previous winter, Kuglu- 
took and Chevik by name. The others had 
been met by the crew of the Sea Lion on sev- 
eral occasions in the course of her trading up 
and down the coast. The Eskimos laughed 
heartily and shook hands with everyone, wel- 
coming them in the characteristic, hospitable 
Eskimo fashion. 

The small bay in which the Sea Lion was 
anchored was in the mouth of Inglefield 
Gulf, which here indents the western coast 
of Greenland. The Eskimos explained that 
they had left their families encamped farther 
up the gulf, and had come down near its 
mouth to hunt walrus. At their permanent 
camp they had some bearskins and a fine lot 
of narwhal and walrus tusks which they had 
been keeping for Captain Mugford, as they 
had expected him. 

Captain Mugford invited them aft, and 
after a half-hour’s talk with them presented 


140 


The Young Arctic Traders 


each with a jackknife and gave them a quan- 
tity of trinkets to take to their women and 
children. 

“Mr. Dugmore,” he directed, “have 
Spuds give ’em each a half-dozen hard bis- 
cuits. That’ll make ’em feel good. Want 
’em to feel good! Have him fill ’em up on 
hot tea! All they want of it! Hard biscuits 
to eat with the tea, and each of ’em take a half- 
dozen away with him. Fix ’em up now! Spe- 
cial reason to make ’em feel good!” 

“Very well, sir!” and Mr. Dugmore led 
them below for their treat, where Spuds, 
grumbling at the unsavory odor that the 
Eskimos took below with them, with Shanks’ 
assistance served them with tea and hardtack, 
of which they were exceedingly fond. 

When the visitors an hour later left the 
ship they were in the best of spirits, laugh- 
ing like happy children, and promising to 
meet the ship upon her return from Etah, 
when they would have the bearskins and 
ivory for Captain Mugford. 

“Fixed it all up! Fixed it all up!” said the 
captain to Mr. Tones that evening. “Eski- 


Lynch Law 


Hi 

mos to have an igloo at their camp for the 
three pirates. When we come back we’ll land 
’em. Fix ’em up all right, but they’ll have 
to hunt their own meat. Eskimos lend ’em a 
hand if they need it. Won’t let ’em starve or 
freeze. We’ll let ’em spend the winter in 
Inglefield Gulf. Can’t have ’em on the ship 
all winter, and it’ll give ’em a chance to cool 
off.” 

“Do you think they can stand the cold 
weather with no better shelter than an 
igloo?” asked Mr. Jones. “We want to take 
’em back for trial.” 

“Shanks and the Stowaways stood it, and 
didn’t have grub either. Had to hunt it. 
Had to make their own clothes from skins 
and had to kill the animals to get skins,” 
explained Captain Mugford. “I’ve fixed it 
up with the Eskimos to keep these fellows in 
warm fur clothes. Fixed up everything! 
But they’ll have to hunt and keep working! 
Eskimos promised to make ’em do it. We’ll 
give each of the prisoners a rifle, and leave 
a shotgun or two with ’em, and plenty of 
ammunition.” 


I 4 2 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“Of course they deserve to be left that way, 
but I’m not sure but it’s too much of a risk,” 
insisted Mr. Jones. “We don’t want any- 
thing to happen to ’em.” 

“Pish! Pish and fiddlesticks! Nothing’ll 
happen to ’em! They’ll be all right! We’ll 
pick ’em up in good shape next summer!” 

“Well, we’d have trouble if we kept ’em 
on the ship, and perhaps it’s the best arrange- 
ment and you’re right,” agreed Mr. Jones. 

“Of course it is! Of course it is! Now, 
Mr. Jones, we’ll make our departure for 
Etah in the morning. Can’t take chances on 
being pinched by the ice. We’ll make our 
winter berth in Westenholm Sound when we 
come south, and the three pirates will be 
camped to the north of us and to the south 
of the three lads, with a long stretch of ice 
between.” 


CHAPTER XIV 
THE HUT ON THE ROCKS 

E TAH is situated on Smith Sound. Polar 
expeditions have, in years past, estab- 
lished their southern base stations here, and 
it has been the custom of the men in charge 
of the stations to conduct trade with the 
Eskimos while the explorers were occupied 
in the farther north. This trading was al- 
ways decidedly profitable to the commander 
of the polar expedition, and Captain Mug- 
ford was now to take advantage of this fact, 
and establish his own station with the Stowa- 
ways and Shanks in charge. 

This is a regular and more or less perma- 
nent rendezvous for Eskimos, who house 
their families here in igloos built of stone 
and earth while they are absent hunting 
walrus, seals, and narwhals on the ice of 
Smith Sound or go afield for polar bears 
and reindeer, or make more extended jour- 
143 


144 


The Young Arctic Traders 


neys across the ice to Ellesmere Land in 
search of the musk ox. 

It rarely happens that the waters of Smith 
Sound are so free of ice as to permit a sail- 
ing vessel to penetrate to this far northern 
point. In general only steam vessels with 
their greater power and better ability to 
maneuver, may venture here with a degree 
of safety. Under ordinary circumstances, 
therefore, Captain Mugford, in attempting 
it, would have been undertaking a daring 
feat. 

But this year, as we have seen, Baffin Bay, 
Melville Bay, and Smith Sound were, by 
some freak of nature, unclogged by ice. To 
be ^ure, a sudden gale was always likely to 
sweep the great pack down in a night or a 
day, and had this happened the Sea Lion 
could scarcely have escaped destruction. 

But the life of the voyageur in these 
waters is one of risk and daring, and Captain 
Mugford, though ordinarily cautious, was 
also a man of daring. And though Mr. 
Jones had mildly registered an objection to 
the undertaking, and Mr. Dugmore, most 


The Hut on the Rocks 


*45 


pessimistic from the beginning, had argued 
strongly against it, largely through habit, no 
doubt, Captain Mugford elected to take the 
risk. 

Fortune was with them from the begin- 
ning. The Sea Lion was favored by sea and 
wind, and in spite of Mr. Dugmore’s predic- 
tion that luck would turn against them if 
they were so recklessly to tempt Fate, “so to 
speak,” the Sea Lion hove in sight of the 
bleak cliffs of Etah one day, and clustering 
between the cliffs and the sea a little group 
of skin tents or tupeks in which Eskimos live 
until the severer weather of winter comes to 
drive them into the more substantial igloos. 

Since their call at Cape Parry, Al, Harry, 
and Shanks had been busy assembling the 
equipment necessary for their winter com- 
fort, together with a quantity of trading 
goods destined to be exchanged with the 
Eskimos for fur and ivory. The latter in- 
cluded guns, knives, hatchets, needles, awls, 
files, beads, and a various assortment of 
knickknacks. Everything was now on deck 
ready to be transferred to land. 


146 The Young Arctic Traders 


It was with mixed feelings of pleasure at 
the anticipation of adventure that awaited 
them, and of awe, loneliness, and shrinking 
uncertainty of what the future might hold 
for them among unknown savages on this 
desolate Arctic shore that the three young 
men looked for the first time upon the dismal 
rocks where they were to make their winter 
home. As the Sea Lion drew near they 
could discern, gathered near the water’s edge, 
a group of natives curiously watching the 
approach of the strange vessel, and they won- 
dered vaguely what measure of welcome 
awaited them. 

Presently several kayaks put off from shore 
and paddled out to meet the ship, and hov- 
ered around her until she hove her anchor. 
Then the Eskimos eagerly clambered aboard. 

“Well if there ain’t Matuk and Korluk!” 
exclaimed Shanks. 

“And there’s Sipsook, too!” said A 1 joy- 
fully, recognizing friends of the previous 
winter. 

Shanks could speak the Eskimo tongue 
sufficiently well to make himself understood, 


The Hut on the Rocks 


147 


and A1 and Harry had also acquired enough 
of the language to exchange greetings and to 
ask how the men had fared since they last 
saw them and if their families were well. 

Daddy, however, conversed with them flu- 
ently, and usually acted as interpreter for the 
ship in dealings with them. He now explained 
the mission of the Sea Lion , and the Eskimos 
expressed pleasure that a bartering place 
was always to be within their reach during 
the winter months, and offered to lend every 
assistance to the adventurous young traders. 
Korluk, Matuk, and an Eskimo named Tuktu 
declared that their kooners (women) would 
make the necessary kuletars 1 and nannoo - 
kers . 1 2 Others of the hunters offered the serv- 
ices of their kooners in providing birdskin 
shirts, sealskin boots, and sleeping bags for 
their guests, for as such they received the 
young men. Proper recompense, Daddy 
assured them, would be made in such articles 
of trade as they might select. 

1 The kuletar is a hooded loose garment made of fox or rein- 
deer skin. It is drawn over the head and serves as a coat. Sim- 
ilar to the garment called a parka in Alaska. 

2 Trousers made usually in Greenland of polar bearskin. 


148 The Young Arctic Traders 


There was no time to be lost. Despite the 
good weather it was advisable that the Sea 
Lion turn southward at the earliest moment 
and avoid the possibility of becoming ice- 
bound should a sudden storm arise. 

Accordingly, lumber, packing boxes, coal, 
cases of kerosene oil, a small coal stove, and 
a two-wick oil stove (to be used when trav- 
eling with dogs and sledge), together with 
provisions, blankets, clothing, three large 
tarpaulins, and a quantity of trading goods, 
were immediately landed. 

On shore they found a roofless shack, 
which had been constructed of packing boxes 
by explorers, an old stove, and a considerable 
supply of coal which had been abandoned by 
an exploring expedition two years before. 

“They’ll help out,” said the Sky Pilot, 
who had charge of the building. “We can 
use those boxes with what we have and build 
a bang-up shack. This gives us more mate- 
rial, and we’ll be able to make it bigger than 
I thought we should.” 

It was decided that the interior of the 
building should be ten by fourteen feet in 


The Hut on the Rocks 


149 


size. A sheltered and level spot was selected, 
and the erection of the shack began at once. 
Packing boxes were placed in position to 
form the walls, and these were filled with 
stones and such loose earth as could be 
scraped together. When the first row of 
boxes were fitted and filled, another tier was 
placed on top and filled in similar manner, 
the boxes arranged like huge bricks, until 
presently the sides of the house were six feet 
in height, with an opening to the eastward 
four feet high and two feet wide to serve as 
a doorway. In the south wall another open- 
ing fourteen by eighteen inches was provided 
to serve as a window, and into this a one-pane 
sash was fitted. This sash was on hinges that 
it might be opened for ventilation if neces- 
sary, and outside, also on hinges, a solid shut- 
ter of planks. 

A double thickness of planks, with pack- 
ing paper between, was now nailed on each 
end to form the gables, and the planks sawn 
to suit the slope of the roof. The two sides 
were covered with planks and sheathed with 
a single thickness of planks. Then the roof 


i5o 


The Young Arctic Traders 


itself was laid. This consisted of a layer of 
planks, spiked into position, over which 
a heavy tarpaulin was spread and this again 
covered with planks securely spiked down; 
and to guard against the possibility of it being 
blown away by gales of wind, bowlders were 
placed upon it as an anchorage and added 
protection. A door of planks was fashioned 
and hung upon heavy hinges, and to avoid 
the probability of the door being clogged by 
snow it was made to open into the room. 

A stovepipe hole had been cut in the roof. 
The stove was now placed in position, and 
the shack was ready for its other meager 
furnishings. 

“Darkcr’n all tarnation,” observed Shanks. 
“But one little winder’s better’n none, and 
last year we didn’t have that much.” 

“It’s going to be fine and warm,” said Al, 
“and pretty soon when the sun goes down for 
the winter we won’t care if it is dark.” 

“We’ll be outside most of the time it’s day- 
light anyhow,” enthused Harry. “It’s cer- 
tainly a bang-up shack, and it’s going to be 
mighty cozy.” 


The Hut on the Rocks 


111 

“You’ll be bankin’ her up with snow 
blocks around the outside when snow comes,” 
suggested Daddy. “That’ll be a coal-savin’ 
dodge. It’ll keep the wind from siftin’ in.” 

“We’ll do that,” said Al. 

“We’ll be snug as woodchucks in their 
hole,” said Shanks. 

“Now we’ll have to fix up some sort of 
bunks for you fellows, and I reckon I can 
spare some boards for a floor,” suggested the 
Sky Pilot. 

“Jiminy, but we’ll be puttin’ on airs to 
have a floor,” grinned Shanks. 

“It will be swell, with a floor!” enthused 
Harry. 

“You’ll have one,” laughed the Sky Pilot. 

A bunk three feet wide was built the full 
length of the shack on the side opposite the 
door. This was divided in the middle, mak- 
ing two bunks each seven feet long. Another 
bunk across the rear end of the shack, with 
one end of it flush against the long bunk, was 
seven and one-half feet in length and of the 
same width as the others. 

“That’ll do for me,” grinned Shanks. 


•IS2 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“It’s the longest one, and I need it to 
stretch.” 

“You may have it,” laughed Al. “Harry 
and I will take the others.” 

“They’ll serve as seats, too,” suggested the 
Sky Pilot, “but we’ll make two or three 
stools, and I’ll knock together a table for you 
out of a box. That’s all the furniture you’re 
going to have.” 

“Can’t you fix up some sort of a closet to 
keep grub and things in?” asked Al. 

“You fellows are looking for all the com- 
forts of home,” laughed the Sky Pilot. “I 
reckon we can spare the lumber for it. Go 
to it, and build it.” 

While the Sky Pilot and three lads were 
busy on the interior, Daddy utilized some 
surplus boxes and boards to build an en- 
closed porch outside thg door in which 
coal could be kept, and which would serve 
to exclude wind and drifting snow. On the 
evening following their arrival everything 
was completed and ready for occupancy, and 
provisions, supplies, and trading goods 
stowed away. 


The Hut on the Rocks 


153 


“Shipshape! Shipshape! Be as snug as 
we will on board!” declared Captain Mug- 
ford when he came ashore to inspect the 
quarters. “What do you say to it, Mr. Jones? 
What do you say to this, now?” 

“They should be snug enough in this 
shack, sir,” admitted the mate. “I’d as lief 
stay in it myself as aboard ship.” 

“Yes, sir, yes! Fine quarters for ’em. 
Now you Stowaways and Shanks come 
aboard. Spuds has a good feed ready for 
you. Last you’ll have before we sail. When 
you’ve eaten, report to me in the cabin.” 

Mr. Dugmore had taken advantage of the 
day ashore to hunt, and had returned with 
a good bag of ptarmigans. When the three 
young men descended into the galley they 
found Spuds waiting for them. He was in 
a mournful state of mind. He might well 
indeed have been about to part forever from 
the best and only friends he had in the 
world. But he had exerted himself to make 
the gastronomic parting at least as pleasur- 
able as possible. On the galley range was a 
great pan of fried ptarmigans, done to a turn. 


1 54 


The Young Arctic Traders 


There were canned peas, boiled rice, a plum 
pudding, and a pot of coffee. 

“Set down Al-fred and Hen-nery and 
Shanks. I should call you Pe-ter, which is 
your rightful name, Shanks, at a time like 
this.” Spuds ran the forefinger of his right 
hand over his perspiring brow, deposited the 
accumulation gathered by the finger upon the 
floor with a spasmodic jerk of the hand, and 
then wiped his face with his apron and 
sighed heavily. “Seems like I was never 
goin’ to see you fellers again. I’m goin’ to 
have a lonely winter with nobody much to 
talk to.” 

“Oh, you’ll be all right, Mr. Spudding- 
ton,” A1 consoled as Spuds helped him to 
fried ptarmigan and vegetables. “There’s the 
Sky Pilot, he’s a good fellow to talk with.” 

“And Daddy,” suggested Harry. “He’ll 
visit with you if you’ll let him.” 

“They ain’t like you fellers,” objected 
Spuds. “And I never thought they’d send 
you away from me like this, Shanks. I don’t 
know how they expects me to get along alone 
in the galley, sendin’ you right smack away 


The Hut on the Rocks 


155 


from me this way, and leavin’ me to do every- 
thing.” 

“You won’t make out so bad,” said Shanks. 
“You won’t have so many to cook for with 
us fellers gone, and we do a lot of eatin’. 
The three pirates is goin’ to be dropped off 
goin’ back too, and that’ll make six less.” 

“Yes, I know, but I’ll miss you, Shanks,” 
Spuds placed a hand affectionately upon 
Shanks’ shoulder. “I’ve been cross to you 
sometimes, Shanks, but you won’t hold it agin’ 
me, now, will you Shanks? If you gets killed 
or dies up here with these heathen Eskimos 
you won’t hold anything I’ve ever said agin’ 
me, will you, Shanks?” 

“Not a doggoned thing, Mr. Spudding- 
ton,” agreed Shanks, much moved. “If I get 
killed or die I’ll forget ’em all. I’ll forget 
’em anyhow.” 

“That’s just like you, Shanks,” said Spuds 
gratefully. “You’ve been the best help to 
me of anybody I’ve ever had.” 

“That’s cracking fine,” broke in Harry. 
“That’s a compliment you ought to appre- 
ciate, Shanks.” 


156 The Young Arctic Traders 


“I do, you bet,” said Shanks. 

“I ought not to feel so bad at bein’ lone- 
some,” continued Spuds. “My ancestors that 
came over in the Mayflower had it worse’n 
I will, and bein’ their descendant I ought to 
stand it all right.” 

“Tell us about them,” suggested A 1 in a 
burst of sympathy. 

Conversation during the remainder of the 
meal was confined to Spuds’ account of his 
ancestral heroes, and when they finally left 
him to report to Captain Mugford he was 
quite as cheerful as usual. 

“Come in! Come in!” invited Captain 
Mugford when they presented themselves at 
the cabin door. “Did Spuds fill you up? 
Feed you well?” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” said Al. “He gave 
us a good meal.” 

“All right! All right! Just wanted to 
say this,” Captain Mugford waved them to 
seats. “Sit down! Can’t talk to you while 
you stand! Why don’t you sit down?” 

Al and Harry seated themselves. 

“The Sea Lion' 11 make her berth in Wes- 


The Hut on the Rocks 


157 


tenholm Sound,” the captain continued. 
“You know where that is. South of Ingle- 
field Gulf. About as far south as Etah is 
north. Not likely we can come to Etah in 
the spring. When the Eskimos come south 
with their sledges in the spring come with 
’em. Gome to the ship. Pay ’em well and 
they’ll bring you. Be glad to do it. Glad 
to be rid of you by that time. Bring all your 
furs and stuff, and any trading goods you 
don’t dispose of. Understand?” 

“Yes, sir,” said Al. 

“All right! You know what to do ashore. 
Told you all about that before.” Captain 
Mugford arose and shook hands with each 
of them. “Now go to it! Go to it! Take 
care of yourselves! Good luck! Good luck! 
Expect great things of you lads. Now get 
out! Sleep aboard ship tonight. We’re sail- 
ing with the tide in the morning. Mr. Jones’ll 
let you have a boat. You may need it! See you 
in the morning before you go ashore. Get 
out of here now! I’m busy! Can’t be both- 
ered with you!” 

“Let’s get Daddy and the Sky Pilot and 


158 The Young Arctic Traders 


take ’em down with us to visit with Spuds in 
the galley,” suggested Al, when they were 
again on deck. “I want to get that yarn from 
Daddy, and this is the last chance we’ll 
have.” 

“The one he said he’d spin us about being 
a pirate once?” asked Harry. 

“Yes,” said Al. “I reckon it’ll be about 
half true anyhow, and it’ll make Daddy feel 
good to have us show interest in his old 
yarn.” 

“Bully!” agreed Harry. “Let’s do it!” 

“Say,” grinned Shanks, “Spuds is feelin’ 
kinder good and lonesome for us, and most 
sheddin’ tears because we’re goin’. Maybe 
he’ll fry up a little batch o’ doughnuts for us 
to take ashore in the mornin’ as a partin’ gift 
o’ love for his departin’ shipmates. Let's 
strike him for ’em.” 

“Fine!” Al laughed. “Spuds can fry the 
doughnuts while Daddy spins his yarn.” 

They found Daddy and the Sky Pilot for- 
ward smoking their pipes and watching the 
thousands of sea birds hovering over the 
waters, and Al greeted them: 


The Hut on the Rocks 


159 

“Hello! We were looking for you. We’re 
leaving early in the morning and thought we 
might have a little visit.” 

“That’s good,” said the Sky Pilot. “Good 
to have a visit, I mean, not your leaving us.” 

“I reckon you fellers are all sot up for 
housekeeping and you’ll soon be enjoyin’ your 
little home,” grinned Daddy as the three lads 
joined them. “I calc’late Shanks’ll be cook, 
but who’s goin’ to be chambermaid?” 

“I ain’t goin’ to do all the cookin’,” Shanks 
protested. “A1 and Harry’ll have to do some 
on’t. I guess we’ll all help around the cham- 
bermaid work.” 

“Thanks to you and the Sky Pilot we’ve 
a bang-up place to spend the winter,” 
laughed Al. “Can’t you two come down to 
the galley with us? You’ve got that pirate 
yarn to spin to us, and perhaps we can in- 
duce Spuds to fry us some doughnuts.” 

“Yes, suppose we go along, Daddy, and 
hear that yarn,” the Sky Pilot agreed. 
“You’re good at inventing yarns, and we can 
stand it.” 

“That’s the yarn of the Nancy Hale , and 


160 The Young Arctic Traders 


when I turned pirate, and it’s all true as your 
preachin’, and I guess more so,” Daddy 
smiled broadly. “Come along, and I’ll spin 
her.” 

Shanks led the way, and Spuds greeted his 
visitors cordially. He was evidently lonely, 
and still brooding over the going of Shanks. 

“Set down. I’m real glad to see you,” said 
he. “I was lonesome thinkin’ about you 
leavin’ me the way you be, Shanks. I don’t 
know how they expect me to make out 
alone.” 

“It will be lonesome without Shanks and 
the Stowaways,” ventured the Sky Pilot. 

“I guess we’ll manage to shift some way 
without ’em,” Daddy winked at Shanks. 
“You were always havin’ your own troubles 
gettin’ Shanks to hang around the galley long 
enough to get the grub cooked, now wa’n’t 
you, Spuds?” 

“My real name is Mr. Adolphus P. Spud- 
dington,” corrected Spuds with some asper- 
ity and much attempted dignity. “The P 
stands for Puddingford. I likes to have 
folks call me by my right name, and not call 


The Hut on the Rocks 


161 


me nicknames just like common folks is 
called. My ancestors came over in the May - 
flower and I’m their descendant, and I ain’t 
just common folks like most sea-farin’ men 
be. You can ask Al-fred or Hen-nery.” 

“That’s so, now, you ain’t just like others, 
be you?” Joshua winked again. “Now look 
at me. I don’t recollect as I ever had any 
ancestors in my life, unless I call my mother 
and father and one or two grandfathers and 
grandmothers ancestors.” 

“ ’Tain’t likely you ever did have any 
ancestors, leastways the kind I mean,” Spuds 
was much mollified by Daddy’s admission. 

“Well, I can’t say’s I ever missed ’em 
much, never knowin’ what ’twere to have 
’em,” Daddy knocked the ashes from his 
pipe, and proceeded to fill it. “ ’Tain’t like 
as though I’d had ’em and lost ’em.” 

“Never you mind, Josh-u-a,” consoled 
Spuds, now quite reconciled. “Everybody 
wa’n’t born with ancestors to look up to, least- 
ways them that come over in the Mayflower 
like mine did.” 

“Mr. Spuddington,” there was sorrow in 


1 62 The Young Arctic Traders 


Shanks’ voice, “me’n A1 and Harry go ashore 
in the mornin’, and the Sea Lion sails to the 
suth’ard to her winter berth, and we won’t see 
you again for a long time.” 

“It will be a long time, and maybe you’ll 
be killed, Shanks, but when you’re dead and 
gone I’ll think about you,” assured Spuds in 
a doleful tone, garnering a harvest of mois- 
ture from his brow with a finger, and flirting 
it upon the floor. 

“We’re all feelin’ so doggoned busted up 
about it,” continued Shanks, “we want some- 
thin’ to keep us rememberin’ for a little while 
how kind you be, and we guessed maybe 
you’d fry us up a batch of doughnuts.” 

“Yes,” seconded Al, “those wonderful 
doughnuts of yours, to take over with us to 
our^ lonely little hut.” 

“They’re just the finest doughnuts in the 
world!” added Harry. “Every time we eat 
one it’ll make us think of you and the fine 
times we’ve had with you, hearing the stories 
about your ancestors. Eating the doughnuts 
while thinking of you will make the first 
lonesome days ashore go more quickly.” 


The Hut on the Rocks 


163 


“And if we’re killed or anything,” Shanks’ 
voice was more doleful than ever, “you’ll 
be thinkin’ about the last kindness you done 
for us.” 

“I never thought about makin’ a batch of 
doughnuts for you now!” Spuds’ face 
beamed. “I’ll go right smack to work and 
make ’em, and I’ll make a big batch too.” 

“Thank you! Thank you!” said A1 with 
much feeling. 

“I knew you’d make ’em for your old ship- 
mates, Mr. Spuddington,” added Shanks 
gratefully. 

“While you’re doing it,” suggested Harry, 
“Daddy will spin us a yarn.” 

“I’ll spin the yarn if Mister Spuddington 
don’t mind,” agreed Daddy. “Maybe he 
don’t want folks talkin’ while he’s busy fryin’ 
doughnuts.” 

“I won’t mind at all,” assured Spuds. “It 
won’t fuss me a bit, Josh-u-a. Go right 
straight on and tell about the pirates.” 


CHAPTER XV 
JOSHUA TIDD SPINS A YARN 

“^Tp HE yarn’s about the Nancy Hale ” 
A began Joshua, after relighting his 
pipe. “I was a young feller when I shipped 
on her, but ’twa’n’t my first v’yage. As I 
said when I tells about goin’ to the Antarctic 
regions huntin’ for sulphur-bottoms and find- 
in’ trouble, the master’s name was Loon, and 
a queer kind of feller he was, doin’ all sorts 
of crazy things. He was a good whaleman 
though, and knew his job, and when he set 
out on a v’yage he wouldn’t turn home till 
he had a cargo. 

“When the sulphur-bottoms played high 
jinks with us, and wouldn’t let us kill ’em in 
a decent and self-respectin’ manner, and we’d 
had two boats smashed and lost one man, with 
no more show of killin’ a sulphur-bottom 
than a snowball would have in Mister Spud- 
164 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 165 

dington’s oven, the old man pointed the Nancy 
Hales gib boom toward Bering Sea. There 
was said to be plenty o’ whales knockin’ about 
there, and we set out to kill our share of ’em. 

“The Nancy Hale was a brig, full rigged, 
and as trim and smart a craft as I ever sailed 
in. Captain Loon was a queer duck, as I’ve 
said. He believed in carryin’ guns, like ships 
used to do back in the forties and fifties, spe- 
cially them in Pacific waters. We had one 
mounted for’ard and two on the starb’ard 
and two on the port side, which even in the 
old days when there was pirates to look out 
for would have been a superfluity o’ guns, 
and more’n any decent, self-respectin’ trader 
or merchantman would ever have need of. 
But the master had served in the navy in his 
young days and he’d picked up the guns and 
mounted ’em just to make him feel kinder to 
home and comfortable. 

“We cruised to the west’ard and nuth’ard, 
pickin’ up one right whale to the south of 
New Zealand. Then we gets in a blow, and 
are drove out of our course and has to lay up 
for repairs in a port where there were a ves- 


1 66 The Young Arctic Traders 


sel that’d been tradin’ with the Fiji Island- 
ers and had made a big haul. 

“This puts a crazy notion in Captain 
Loon’s head that we can do some good 
tradin’ there too. He puts into a New Zea- 
land port and takes on a lot of tradin’ stuff, 
and away we sails for the Fiji Islands. 

“As I’ve said before, whalin’ and tradin’ 
wasn’t done together them days. They didn’t 
mix. But Captain Loon was ready for all 
sorts of crazy doin’s, and this was sure one 
of ’em. 

“Well, to make it short, we hove in sight 
of the islands in proper time and made a 
port the master had heard about as a good 
place to find the savages. We found ’em all 
right, but not like we was expectin’. Some- 
body, I reckon, had been foolin’ him and 
calc’lated on playin’ a joke. He were ex- 
pectin’ some sort of town, or leastways we 
was. There wa’n’t any town anywheres as I 
could see on the landscape, but before we’d 
cast our anchor the shore was alive with the 
toughest-lookin’ bunch of savages I ever 
clapped eyes on, and they was puttin’ off in 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 167 


big war canoes and was armed with spears 
and war clubs. 

“It didn’t take a prophet to tell they was 
in fightin’ trim and achin’ to start somethin’. 
The old man knew what was cornin’, and he 
just held the anchor apeak, and we spread 
sail, and made ready to depart that port 
quicker’n any vessel I ever sailed on before 
or since. There was forty of us in the crew, 
and every mother’s son of us was workin’ like 
it was for his life, and he was too. 

“But quick as we was them savages was 
quicker. They just pulled them canoes in 
so fast it looked like they’d swarm all over 
us before we could get under way, and ’twas 
plain to be seen they meant business. The 
captain wa’n’t afraid, but it seemed like he 
didn’t want to hurt anybody if he could make 
out without it. 

“There wa’n’t anything else to do but 
shoot and shoot for business. Our guns were 
loaded with grape, and when the order came 
we let fly. It seemed like twenty or thirty of 
the canoes just reared up and then the water 
was full of savages scramblin’ around. But 


1 68 The Young Arctic Traders 


it didn’t seem to head off the others; they 
came on yellin’ to make your blood freeze. 

“We loaded and gave it to ’em again, but 
by then some of ’em had got alongside and 
was tryin’ to scramble aboard. Lucky for us 
we was light loaded, and high, and we just 
knocked ’em off in the water while the gun 
crews fired again. 

“That third shot was all they wanted. 
There wa’n’t enough of ’em left to hurt us, 
and they made off as fast as they could pad- 
dle, and we sailed away thankful enough we 
all had whole skins. We must have killed a 
hundred of them savages, least calc’lation. 
We done up a slew of ’em anyhow. 

“Captain Loon had all he wanted of Fiji 
Island tradin’ for the time bein’. He said 
we’d just stick to our regular business of 
whalin’ after that, and we headed straight 
for Bering Sea. But the fight kinder got the 
old man’s blood het up, I reckon, and the 
ups and downs we’d had with sulphur-bot- 
toms and then the Fiji Island savages made 
him sort of reckless, which led to what hap- 
pened later on. 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 169 


“We’d been in the suth’ard latitudes, and 
while it was summer there it was winter in 
the north latitudes. We sailed north in the 
fall, which was spring to the nuth’ard of 
Cancer, and Bering Sea was gettin’ middlin’ 
clear of ice when we sailed into her the first 
week in July, and about the first thing we 
seen was the spout of a right whale. 

“The old man was excited when that whale 
was sighted. The boats were lowered away 
with everybody feelin’ good, and off we 
pulled for the whale. I was in the first boat 
and we got the irons in her with no more 
trouble than the Sky Pilot has jammin’ his 
preachin’ into us. She couldn’t get away 
from us any more’n we can get away from 
him. 

“The old feller gave us a good long tow 
before two o’ the boats overhauled us and 
we got him killed, but before we could get 
the line on to take him alongside a fog set- 
tled down on us thicker’n mud. The Nancy 
Hale was a good distance off, and after pull- 
in’ awhile, we lay to for the fog to lift, for 
we’d kinder lost our bearin’s and wa’n’t sure 


170 The Young Arctic Traders 


but we were goin’ wrong. Then night came 
on, and a breeze sprung up, and it looked like 
a nasty squall was due. 

“The mate was along in our boat, and 
after some talk he decided we’d better pull 
out and hunt the Nancy Hale . We stuck a 
harpoon shaft up in the whale and tied 
a piece of the mate’s red undershirt to it for a 
marker, and away we goes. It was near 
mornin’ and a pretty stiff sea runnin’ when 
we sees the lights of the Nancy Hale, and 
daybreak when we gets aboard. 

“The blow kept up all that day, but by the 
next the wind had settled down to a respect- 
able breeze with a moderate sea runnin’ and 
we went cruisin’ around lookin’ for that 
whale. It was cornin’ sundown when we 
sighted a vessel with a whale tied up to her 
starboard side and her crew makin’ ready to 
cut into her. 

“ ‘That’s our whale!’ the mate says to the 
captain, kinder excited like. ‘See that there 
stick floatin’ there with a red cloth on’t? The 
stick’s our harpoon shaft, and the cloth’s the 
tail 0’ my red-flannel shirt!’ 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 17 1 

“ ‘The pirates!’ says the captain. ‘They’re 
stealin’ our whale! I’ll show ’em!’ 

“Well, he run the Nancy Hale down and 
brought her up to within about forty fathoms 
or thereabouts of the other ship, which was a 
Jap, and asked for the skipper. We could 
hear some jabberin’ among the Jap crew and 
then a feller hails us in broken English and 
asks what we wants. 

“Captain Loon tells ’em in more or less 
decorated language that he wants the whale 
and no foolin’ about it either. I won’t use 
his words for I’m afraid they’d shock the 
Sky Pilot. Leastways they was plain enough 
and the Jap understood ’em, for he answered 
that he’d found the whale floatin’ loose and 
it was his’n and he was goin’ to keep it. Then 
we noticed that the Jap crew was armed 
with rifles and that the vessel carried a gun 
for’ard and one aft, and we sized her up as 
a seal poacher, which she was. 

“The old man said we had killed that 
whale and it was our’n by all the laws of the 
seven seas, and he wa’n’t goin’ to give it up. 

“There wa’n’t any need of an order for the 


172 


The Young Arctic Traders 


gun crews on the Nancy Hale to stand by 
their guns. They knew what was cornin’, and 
they was there, and the old man didn’t give 
the Jap poacher a chance to swing her bow 
gun or her stern chaser to bear on us. He 
ordered us to fire and we gave ’em a broad- 
side high up. It knocked over some of the 
Japs, and brought down a spar. 

“There wa’n’t any more squabblin’ after 
that. The Japs cut the whale loose, and 
showed they wa’n’t hankerin’ for any close 
communion with us. They acted like they 
didn’t care anything about our company any 
longer, and they were willin’ to let us have 
the whale without any more jawin’ or dick- 
erin’. 

“We made fast to it and towed her away 
about five miles, for we wa’n’t hankerin’ for 
their society either. Then we come to and 
lashed the carcass alongside, and spent the 
night cuttin’ her up. 

“It were just fair daylight the next mornin’ 
when the lookout gave us, Whale ahoy!’ 
’Twa’n’t There she blows,’ accordin’ to rule. 

“ Where away?’ calls Captain Loon. 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 


173 


“ Tour p’ints off the starb’rd bow/ an- 
swers the lookout. 

“ ‘Well, don’t she blow?’ asks the captain 
in a riled voice. 

“ ‘She can’t,’ says the lookout. ‘She’s 
deader’n tripe and has a red flag atop of 
her.’ 

“We was puzzled at that, and so was the 
captain. He sends the mate with a crew to 
look the whale over. ’Twa’n’t far off and the 
mate soon comes back lookin’ sheepish-like 
and reports that the whale’s our’n. 

“ ‘But you says the whale was our’n that 
we took from the Japs,’ says the skipper. ‘If 
that was our’n this one ain’t. We only killed 
one whale.’ 

“ ' This one is, and t’other wa’n’t though I 
thinks ’twere,’ says the mate. 

“ ‘How do you know this one is?’ asks the 
captain. 

“ ‘Don’t I know my own shirt tail?’ says 
the mate. ‘The red flag on this’n is off’n my 
shirt tail.’ 

“ ‘But you says,’ argues the captain, ‘t’other 
red flag was off’n your shirt tail, and your 


174 


The Young Arctic Traders 


shirt ain’t big enough to have two red flags 
cut off’n it.’ 

“ ‘Well ’twas in the water and I couldn’t 
make it out fair. I thought ’twas,’ says the 
mate a bit sheepish-like. 

“The long and the short of it was we 
brought this second whale alongside, and 
lashed her up to cut, but Captain Loon had 
to make sure ’twas right this time. We all 
sees that the harpoon shaft is our’n, but that 
wa’n’t enough for the captain. He makes the 
mate pull his red-flannel shirt up out’n his 
trousers, and fits the red flag that was tied on 
the harpoon shaft to the tail of the mate’s 
shirt, and sure enough it fitted. 

“ ‘Well, by gum!’ says the captain. ‘We’re 
pirates. We took that other whale from the 
Japs in reg’ler pirate way and ’twa’n’t our’n 
at all! Now we’re in a mess of trouble, and 
we’ll be in a mix-up with the government.’ 

“ ‘Oh, no we won’t,’ says the mate. ‘ ’Twas 
plain as the nose on your face that was a 
poachin’ outfit. They was stealin’ the whale 
from some other crew that had to cut loose 
from her like we did from our’n. They think 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 


175 


’twas our’n, and they’ll never make a report 
on’t. Bein’ poachers they’re outlaws any- 
how, and they’ll keep mum enough.’ 

“ Well ’twa’n’t our’n,’ says the captain, 
kinder crosslike. 

“ ‘Leastways gimme back my shirt tail,’ 
says the mate. ‘I’ll sew her back on the shirt 
where she belongs.’ 

“Captain Loon hands over the shirt tail, 
and never says another word. The mate 
hangs her in the riggin’ to dry, and we goes 
ahead and cuts up the whale. 

“Them was whales. The one we pirated 
from the Japs had twelve-foot bone', and the 
one that was rightfully our’n measured thir- 
teen feet and a half, and that’s just as 
straight and true as any preachin’ the Sky 
Pilot ever done.” 

“They were big whales,” admitted the Sky 
Pilot. 

“Big! Them was whales of whales!” em- 
phasized Daddy. “I’ve been whalin’ a good 
bit in my day, and them whales cornin’ to- 
gether run most as big as I ever see.” 

Joshua’s pipe was smoked out. He 


176 The Young Arctic Traders 


paused, and drew a plug of tobacco and a 
jackknife from his pocket and shaved some 
of the tobacco into the palm of his left hand. 
Then, rubbing the shaved tobacco between 
his palms, he thoughtfully filled his pipe. 

“Did you ever hear anything about the 
whale, or who it belonged to?” asked Al. 

“Yes,” said Joshua, striking a match and 
lighting his pipe. “A British whaler bears 
down on us whilst we was cuttin’ our whale 
up. She hails us and comes to, and asks if 
we’ve seen a whale floatin’ loose, with a red 
flag atop her. 

“We all knows right off it were the Brit- 
isher’s whale we takes from the Jap, and 
Captain toon knows it. 

“ ‘There,’ he says to the mate, ‘that other 
whale belonged to the Britisher, and with 
you not knowin’ your own shirt tail, we’ve 
gone and stole it.’ 

“‘No we didn’t,’ says the mate. ‘’Twere 
the Jap poacher stole the whale. We takes 
her from the Jap. We never sees her floatin’ 
free. We only sees her tied up to the Jap. 
We salvaged her.’ 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 


1 77 


“ ‘You’re right, now,’ says the captain. 
‘We never sees her floatin’. Leastways we’ve 
got the blubber in the kittles, and had the 
work of cuttin’ her up and hoistin’ the blub- 
ber'aboard. I reckon we’ll say nothin’ and 
call her our’n. We salvaged her and she’s 
our’n, and everyone aboard better keep mum 
about the hull thing.’ 

“Then he tells the Britisher that we has 
a whale we killed, and cut loose from in the 
fog. The Britisher don’t seem like he’s sat- 
isfied, and she launches a boat and her cap- 
tain pulls over with a crew, and comes 
aboard the Nancy Hale . He’s a big pomp- 
ous feller, and the first thing he sees is the 
tail of the mate’s red-flannel shirt dryin’ in 
the riggin’ and the minute he sees it he blows 
up and says we stole his whale. 

“That riled Captain Loon quite some, and 
he acted like he was goin’ to get real mad. 
He told the Britisher he never let folks call 
him or his crew thieves, and he kinder feels 
like heavin’ him overboard but he won’t. 
Then he ups and has the mate pull the tail 
of his shirt out’n his trousers again to show 


178 The Young Arctic Traders 


the Britisher where the red_flag come from. 

“Well that pacified the Britisher for it 
were plain as day it fitted the mate’s shirt, 
and he and Captain Loon got real friendly- 
like, and Captain Loon took him below for 
refreshments and when the Britisher left the 
two was thicker’n a fog off the Grand Bank. 
That feller never suspicioned we had his 
whale all cut up and that the blubber we 
was tryin’ out in the kittles was his’n by 
rights. 

“Luck seemed to be sailin’ with us up in 
Bering Sea, and we reckoned we’d have our 
cargo before winter, but we didn’t quite fill 
up, and so we wintered there. Soon’s we got 
free of the ice in the spring we kills another 
fine whale and the Nancy Hale set sail for 
home by way of the Horn. 

“Leastways, the crew thought we was 
p’intin’ for the Horn, but we wa’n’t. We 
was p’intin’ for the Fiji Islands. Captain 
Loon had all those tradin’ goods aboard and 
that bothered him a lot. He wanted to get 
rid of ’em and he figgered that he’d see if 
them savages wa’n’t feelin’ better-humored 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 


179 


than when we’d seen ’em before. He’d 
kinder fergot the way he felt when we’d been 
there the other time. 

“So the first thing we knows we’re sailin’ 
into the same port where we had the fight 
the year before. This time there wa’n’t a 
savage in sight, though we was ready for ’em 
with our guns loaded with grape. Every- 
thing lookin’ quiet and peaceful-like, we 
picks a good berth and heaves our anchor 
early one mornin’, and waits for what might 
turn up. 

“We’d been in Arctic latitudes and was 
kinder hardened to cold, and it was hotter’n 
tarnation down there in the Fiji Island 
waters. We’d been afloat a good while too, 
and I got it in my head to go ashore and look 
around a bit. So I asks the captain. He’s 
willin’, and lets me have a boat, and take 
along whatever men of the crew wants to 
go, but he tells us not to get separated and 
to keep our eyes sharp for natives. 

“There’s no trouble gettin’ the men to go, 
and we all takes our guns and off we goes to 
shore, ten of us in all with me commandin’ 


180 The Young Arctic Traders 


the landin’ party. I were fergettin’ to say 
that I was bo’s’n of the Nancy Hale ever 
since Jim Hankins, who was bo’s’n before 
me, took sick and died of lung fever the win- 
ter before. 

“When we gets ashore we follered a trail 
back a little ways, maybe a mile, and all at 
once comes plunk on a settlement of houses 
which was just bamboo shacks with roofs 
thatched with grass and mostly open around 
the sides. 

“There was a hullabaloo of a rumpus 
among the folks. They sees the Nancy Hale 
the minute she turns into their bay and 
anchors, and not knowin’ whether we’re 
friendly or not they’re gettin’ ready to move 
back in the hills till we goes. There’s no 
gettin’ ’round it, they’re good and scared. 
An old feller with his hands raised over his 
head comes out to meet us, and we makes 
out he’s beggin’ us not to kill ’em all, and 
tellin’ us they’ll be good, and I holds out my 
hand and shakes his’n to let him know we’re 
as peace’ble as they be and we’ll let ’em be 
if they’ll let us be too. 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 1 8 1 

“Well to make it short, it turned out that 
just the time we hove in the bay the year 
before a big war party of some folks they 
was havin’ a war with had turned up to give 
’em a lickin’, but we licked the war party 
and saved the village from bein’ wiped out, 
for after we ups and blows the canoes of 
these enemies of their’n to pieces and kills a 
hundred or so of ’em, what was left turned 
tail and went back where they belongs. 

“When they finds we hain’t huntin’ trou- 
ble, they’re like a passel of children on a 
picnic. The old feller and them that was 
with us takes us to a woman that we makes 
out to be the queen or head of the tribe. Her 
husband that was king got killed the week 
before, and she seemed to be runnin’ things. 
She shines up to me from the start off, 
thinkin’ I’m master of the ship or somethin’, 
and first thing we knows some of the people 
brings in some grub such as they has and we 
eats, though we don’t know what ’tis, and 
don’t like it overmuch. 

“Then I brings up the matter of trade. 
The folks is ready for tradin’ but the queen 


1 82 The Young Arctic Traders 

don’t want ’em to go to the ship and acts like 
she don’t want me to leave her, for she keeps 
shinin’ up to me harder and harder. I wants 
to say though, I thinks she ain’t much to look 
at. About all she wears is some grass mattin’ 
wrapped around her waist and reachin’ half- 
way to her knees, and her hair’s a sight. 

“Well, I sends all the men but Mike Finn, 
one of my crew, back to tell the captain to 
hustle over his tradin’ goods, and after 
awhile over comes the captain himself with 
a lot of the stuff. He’s wonderful pleased 
with the way I handles things, and we gets 
some pearls, pearl shells, and copra and other 
truck in trade which makes him feel good 
too. 

“Then the queen lets us know her folks 
has a lot of stuff back in the country we can 
have if we waits, but it’ll be a month before 
she gets ’em. The old man’s made a pretty 
good haul already, but he’s like most folks 
the world over, the more he gets the more he 
wants. He says we’ll wait, and as the old 
queen has took such a fancy to me and wants 
me to stay in the village, he tells me to stay, 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 183 


and away the captain and all the crew goes 
and leaves me. That wa’n’t the worst of it. 
The old man tells me the Nancy Hales goin’ 
to take a little cruise around among the 
islands lookin’ for more trade, whilst I waits 
for the queen to get her pearls and things 
down. 

“Then I be alone with them Fiji Island- 
ers, but they treats me well enough. The 
4 pI4i l ^* een keeps likin’ me more and more, 
V^^fNban’t blame her for I was a fine-lookin’ 
chap them days. It gets a bit troublesome 
after awhile though, when I finds she wants 
to adopt me as her son and set me up as a 
prince or somethin’. I hedges off, but I 
can’t help myself, and in the end I lets ’em 
do it. 

“There is a hullabaloo of a time for two 
or three days, with eatin’ and dancin’ and 
carryin’ on, and everybody kowtowin’ to me. 
I has to dress up their way, which is mostly 
not wearin’ anything but a waistband of 
grass mattin’ and a necklace of some kind 
of bones or somethin’ of enemies they’d 
killed sometime or other. They wants to put 


184 The Young Arctic Traders 


a ring in my nose, too, but I draws the line 
at that. 

“At the end of a month the pearls and 
things comes down, but the Nancy Hale 
don’t show up. We waits another month, 
and I gets a bit fidgety about it. I’m havin’ 
a good time though, with everybody waitin’ 
on me, me bein’ boss; but a feller gets tired 
of it, and I’m kinder gettin’ homesick to be 
at sea. 

“So it goes, with me prince about three 
months, when some fellers comes in all wild 
and excited-like one mornin’, and the first 
thing I knows the whole village is gettin’ out 
their clubs and spears and bows and arrows. 
I’m scared some, for they all crowds around 
me yellin’ like they’re crazy. 

“To make it short, I’ve picked up their 
lingo to talk it middlin’ well and I makes 
out that there’s a war party of another crowd 
cornin’ to fight ’em, and me bein’ prince they 
expects me to head ’em and lick the other 
crowd. 

“I ain’t hankerin’ for the fight, but I 
calc’late if I don’t go with ’em there’ll be 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 185 


trouble for me where I be, and if I do go 
and they get licked the other crowd’ll come 
along and that’ll end me anyhow. So which 
way I do, I’ve got to get in the fight, and 
it looks like my best chance is to help lick 
the outsiders. I’ve got my gun and I gets 
her out, and off I goes at the head of the mob 
of savages. 

“It’s a pretty even scrap, or ’twould have 
been if I weren’t there with my gun. I just 
looks out for the head men of the other 
crowd, and picks ’em off with my gun, and 
when they sees their head men droppin’ they 
gets scared after a bit and runs. We has 
about a dozen of our folks batted over the 
head or speared, but the other crowd loses a 
lot more’n that. 

“When it’s all over, our folks picks out 
two of the other fellers that was killed, and 
takes the corpses back to the village. Then 
they has a big dance around me and the old 
queen claps her arms around my neck and 
kisses me, which I don’t like, and everybody 
does a lot of kowtowin’ to me. 

“I sees somethin’ is goin’ on special. 


186 The Young Arctic Traders 


They makes a big fire and has some kittles 
over, and it looks like a feed, which I find 
’tis. That evenin’ they all gets out painted 
up, and has a big dance with me in the cen- 
ter, and then they opens the kittles and leads 
me to ’em. 

“First thing I’m suspicious of them kit- 
tles, and when I sees inside ’em I knows 
what’s up. They’ve gone and stewed the two 
corpses belongin’ to that other crowd that 
they brought in to the village. Right there 
I balks. Even if I be the prince, I won’ eat 
out’n them kittles and I ups and tells ’em so. 

“That kicks up a rumpus right off, and it 
looks like I’m in for trouble. The queen 
tells me I’ve got to eat, for eatin’ dead ene- 
mies makes a feller twice as good a fighter. 
I don’t see it that way and I tells ’em so, and 
that starts them savages jibberin’ at me and 
pullin’ and haulin’ me, when all of a sudden 
I hears Captain Loon laughin’ as hard as he 
can, and turnin’ ’round I sees the captain and 
mate and about fifteen of the crew of the 
Nancy Hale, and I was so glad I most blub- 
bered. The Nancy Hale'A come in without 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 187 


us seein’ her, bein’ so busy that day fightin’ 
and then gettin’ ready for the feed. 

“ ‘Captain Hale,’ says I, ‘save me from 
eatin’ human flesh with these savages. I’m 
prince of the outfit, but they’re turnin’ on 
me.’ 

“ ‘You looks like you’re havin’ a good time,’ 
says the captain, laughin’ some more. 

“ ‘Well, I ain’t,’ says I. 

“To make it short, the savages felt kinder 
good toward the Nancy Hale for helpin’ ’em 
in the other fight, and maybe they was scared 
of them guns the men had. Leastways they 
has another conflab and then they quits tryin’ 
to make me eat, and kowtows to me again. 

“Captain Loon gets his pearls and other 
junk next mornin’, with me actin’ as trader 
for the savages, after the feed is over, which 
I don’t eat. 

“Then I sneaks away, and gets in my ship 
toggery to go aboard, but when I does this 
the old queen sets up a holler and all the folks 
gets around me to stop me, and follers all the 
way to the boats. 

“I’m glad enough when I gets aboard the 


1 88 The Young Arctic Traders 


good old Nancy Hale again, and I tells Cap- 
tain Loon plain that I were shippin’ as sea- 
man and whaler and not as prince to Fiji 
Island savages, and to let Mike Finn or some- 
body else have them jobs after that. 

“There, I guess you fellers have had 
enough of my yarnin’,” added Daddy, after 
a pause. 

“I think we have,” agreed the Sky Pilot. 

“How’s them doughnuts, Mister Spud- 
dington?” Daddy grinned. “Ain’t you goin’ 
to pass ’em?” 

“Yes, Mr. Spuddington, pass ’em around. 
They look extra good,” urged Al. “Daddy’s 
yarn was fine and he deserves a treat.” 

“It was bully!” exclaimed Harry enthusi- 
astically. “Those good doughnuts will make 
a splendid dessert to finish it off with!” 

“If I go handin’ ’em around like this you 
won’t have any to take ashore with you,” ob- 
jected Spuds, nevertheless passing the dough- 
nuts good-naturedly. 

“We’re havin’ a good-bye party, and I 
reckon they’ll taste pretty good here,” assured 
Shanks. 


Joshua Tidd Spins a Yarn 189 


But Spuds permitted each to extract only 
one from the pan. Then he placed the re- 
maining doughnuts in a bag and tied it se- 
curely. When this was done, he cleared his 
perspiring brow of moisture in his accus- 
tomed fashion, and announced: 

“Now all of you go right smack out of 
here. I’m goin’ to make three raisin pies for 
you fellers to take ashore as a kind of special 
treat, and it always fusses me to have folks 
around when I makes pies.” 


CHAPTER XVI 

ALONE ON A DESOLATE SHORE 
HE following morning after breakfast 



A the three lads said farewell to Spuds, 
who was almost in tears at the parting. With 
marked emotion he presented them with the 
bag of doughnuts and three attractive-looking 
raisin pies, with the apology: 

“I’m sorry I didn’t think to make you a 
plum puddin’ that you could keep for 
Thanksgivin’ or Christmas, but I’ve been so 
worked up over your goin’ I just went right 
smack and forgot all about it. But I’ll be 
thinkin’ about you and wonderin’ whether 
you’re dead yet. I expect you’ll all take sick 
or die or be killed before I see you again. 
Kinder try to keep cheerful like my ancestors 
did on the Mayflower 

The boys each in turn shook Spuds’ hand 
heartily and thanked him for all he had done 
for their comfort. Then they hurried away 
to find Captain Mugford after stowing the 


Alone on a Desolate Shore 


IQI 

doughnuts and pies carefully in the boat Mr. 
Jones had assigned to their use. 

“Good-bye! Good-bye!” exclaimed Captain 
Mugford. “Take care of yourselves! Expect 
a good trade from you! A good trade!” 

A hurried adieu was said on deck, and the 
crew, led by Daddy, gave them a cheer as 
they pulled away in their boat. 

A brisk breeze was blowing. The foresail 
was already hoisted, and over the water to the 
three lads came the words of a chantey from 
the men at the anchor windlass: 

A whaler sailed from Bedford town — 

Wake her up! Shake her up! Try her with the 
mains’l ! 

A whaler sailed from Bedford town 
With a keg full of gold and a velvet gown; 

Ho, the jolly rover Jack, 

Waiting with his yard aback, 

Out upon the Lowland sea. 

Wake her up! Shake her up! Try her with the 
mains’l ! 

They had hardly reached shore when the 
Sea Lion , with all sails set, turned southward 
on her course; and standing silently upon the 


192 


The Young Arctic Traders 


naked gray rocks they watched her until a 
jutting point of land hid her from view. And 
still they stood, none speaking or moving, as 
they gazed at the empty sea. In the hurry 
of preparation they had scarce given a 
thought to the long and lonely period of iso- 
lation that lay before them. 

Now for the first time, with the sailing of 
the Sea Lion , came the realization that for 
many dreary months they were to be ma- 
rooned upon the most desolate part of the 
earth with no other companionship than that 
of native savages. It was not strange that a 
sense of helplessness settled upon them. They 
were beyond the reach of sympathetic friends. 
If they were to fall ill, as Spuds had pre- 
dicted, or be injured, none could come to their 
assistance. These thoughts were in the mind 
of each as they stood and gazed at the sea, 
though none ventured to voice them. 

“We may’s well get down to business,” re- 
marked Shanks presently, breaking the si- 
lence, “but we’re goin’ to feel queer as 
tarnation for a spell. Kind of as though we’d 
lost our rudder.” 


Alone on a Desolate Shore 


193 


“I feel that way now,” said Al as the three 
turned toward the little cabin which was to 
be their home. 

“We’ll soon get used to it, and we’re in for 
a bully time,” cheered Harry. “I’d rather be 
in this shack than on the ship, anyhow. 
There’ll be no end of squabbling among the 
men down forward when winter sets in and 
the sun goes down.” 

“I don’t feel like working inside. That 
can wait. We’ll have to spend so much time 
there when the long night comes. I want to 
be out-of-doors as much as I can now. Let’s 
get our guns, and go back over the hills,” sug- 
gested Al. “Maybe we’ll get some birds.” 

“That’s sense!” agreed Shanks. “It’ll 
kinder get us used to things.” 

A hill rose behind the shack, and after 
securing guns the three climbed it, and 
paused to look about them. Near the camp 
was a high cliff. Clouds of little auks were 
flying up and down its face or perching upon 
jutting rocks. Gulls and terns hovered over 
the sea, or rested upon the waves. Seals lifted 
their heads above the water, looked curiously 


194 


The Young Arctic Traders 


about them and sank from view. Living 
creatures everywhere were going actively 
about the business of their existence — always 
hunting food. 

Here was companionship, but soon enough 
the birds would disappear before bitter Arc- 
tic blasts, and the heaving waters of the sea 
would be chained by the ice pack. 

At their feet lay a mighty expanse of 
wilderness, austere and rugged, but in its very 
desolation possessing a grandeur and beauty 
both impressive and inspiring. It was God’s 
world, made by His hand, untouched and un- 
marred by man. Spread about them lay 
thousands upon thousands of square miles of 
primeval wilderness, above which rose 
no smoky chimneys, belching unwholesome 
smudge, no roar of rushing locomotives broke 
the silence of ages and no stifling factories 
imprisoned weary workers. Here were no 
jostling crowds, no unholy ambitions, no 
flaunting of wealth, no pitiful poverty. 

“I almost feel,” said Harry, breaking the 
silence, “as though I had died and left the 
old world which I have always known be- 


Alone on a Desolate Shore 


195 


hind me, and life had come to me again on 
another planet.” 

“It is like a dream,” said Al. 

“I guess we’ll wake up bimeby,” grinned 
Shanks. “When winter comes we’ll get a 
punch that’ll wake us out’n any dreams we’re 
havin’. I’ve got a hunch there’s some things 
marked up for us we ain’t countin’ on, and 
we’re more’n likely to get all that’s cornin’ to 
us. Just because we’ve got a shack and fixed 
up pretty fine with things down here don’t 
mean we’re goin’ to have any puddin’ of a 
time. We’ve got to rustle fresh meat, and we 
may’s well be gettin’ busy. We ain’t goin’ to 
have punkin pie three times a day.” 

The afternoon walk was a rough one, over 
rugged, naked hills and along rocky moraines. 
But it was successful. The shotguns which 
Al and Harry carried brought them seven- 
teen ptarmigans, the grouse of the Arctic, and 
Shanks, with a rifle, secured two Arctic hares. 
But, best of all it occupied the minds of the 
young adventurers and they forgot their iso- 
lation. 

In the days that followed the Eskimos, true 


196 The Young Arctic Traders 


to their promise, supplied them with kuletars , 
nannookers , sealskin boots, and shirts from the 
skins of the little auk. These birds were cap- 
tured by hundreds in nets, and the tough 
skins removed with wonderful dexterity. The 
women chewed the fleshy side to draw out 
the oil that remained in them, and then sewed 
them with sinew taken from the back of rein- 
deer. Sinew, indeed, was the only thread 
used in fashioning garments. Nearly one 
hundred and fifty little aukskins were re- 
quired in the making of each shirt. 

In the meantime the days were filled with 
arranging the cabin and adding to it so much 
of a homelike atmosphere as its meager fur- 
nishings would permit; and in daily hunting 
expeditions, which resulted in the capture of 
one walrus and several seals and a consider- 
able number of ducks and other sea fowl, 
some of which were to be held in reserve for 
winter use. 

The majority of the Eskimos, they soon 
learned, were to remove presently to a place 
still farther north which they called An- 
nootok, there to remain permanently through- 


Alone on a Desolate Shore 


197 


out the winter. It was explained, however, 
that Annootok was but one long day’s journey 
from Etah and that the hunters would fre- 
quently visit the Etah cabin. 

This was a decided disappointment to the 
three lads. They had hoped for the constant 
companionship of their savage neighbors, to 
whom they were already quite attached. 

“Maybe we could fix it up to live at An- 
nootok,” suggested Al. “If it isn’t more than 
a day’s journey with dogs, we could get back 
here now and again, if it were not comfort- 
able there. We lived in a cave last winter 
and the Eskimo igloos will be just as warm.” 

“They’re dirtier’n all git out,” objected 
Shanks. “We kept our cave cleaned up last 
winter. I ain’t for livin’ in the same igloos 
with ’em.” 

“Maybe we could go up now and fix up 
some sort of an igloo or shack for ourselves,” 
proposed Harry. 

“Let’s try it!” agreed Al. “We might get 
some of them to go with us.” 

“ ’Twon’t do no harm to try,” agreed 
Shanks. “I’m for it.” 


198 The Young Arctic Traders 


“Suppose we go and ask ’em now,” sug- 
gested Harry. 

Shanks led the way to Korluk’s tupek, 
where, fortunately, they also found Sipsook 
and a young hunter named Etookluk. Etook- 
luk’s family was already at Annootok. He 
was eager for the expedition, and with some 
persuasion Sipsook agreed to join them. 

“We may as well take a stock of grub along 
in the boat,” suggested Shanks. “Th^e^no 
tellin’ how long it’ll take us and we’ll l^pii'be 
gungrier’n all tarnation.” 

“When’ll they be ready?” asked Al. 

After a short parley with the two men, 
Shanks announced that they wished to leave 
at once, but the following morning would be 
quite agreeable to them. Shanks also inter- 
preted a statement that there was a comforta- 
ble shack at Annootok, used the previous 
winter by an explorer, as well as a stove and 
a quantity of coal, which the explorer had 
abandoned. 

“Bully!” exclaimed Harry. “We’ll take 
up enough grub to last us for a month, any- 
how. We can take more up later if we need 


Alone on a Desoiate Shore 


199 


it. The Eskimos will haul it for us with their 
dogs.” 

Accordingly the evening was given to 
preparation, and early the following morning 
the three adventurers with their two Eskimo 
friends set out in the boat for Annootok. 

Note — While there was still perpetual daylight, and the brief 
midnight twilight, the twenty-four hours were, for convenience, 
divided into a night and day period. 


CHAPTER XVII 

THE HURRICANE 

“Y T’S too bad to leave the snug little shack 
A the Sky Pilot built for us,” said A1 re- 
gretfully, as Etah was lost to view. “I don’t 
see why the Eskimos can’t be contented there 
instead of constantly moving about.” 

“It’s this way,” explained Shanks, “and 
mostly they’ve got good reasons for shifting. 
I guess likely they find the huntin’ better to 
the nuth’ard, and they’ve got to be where 
the huntin’ is.” 

“I suppose so,” A1 agreed, “but it seems 
to me there’d be better hunting at Etah than 
farther north.” 

“Nope,” said Shanks positively. “The hus- 
kies are after seals and walrus mostly, with 
white bears and musk ox chucked in as a side 
line, and I’ve heard say that the further to 
the nuth’ard you go the more life there is in 
the water.” 


200 


The Hurricane 


201 


“That is strange,” observed Harry. “Land 
life is more abundant in warmer latitudes, 
and you’d suppose sea life would be too. 
There are more sea birds and water fowl here 
though than I ever saw in my life.” 

“But it’s the seals, walrus, narwhals, and 
white bears, and such like, the huskies are 
after mostly,” explained Shanks. 

“Speaking of birds, I’ve been trying to see 
how many I could name that I’ve seen here,” 
said Al. “There are little auks, guillemots, 
dovekies, skuas, northern eider ducks, and 
kittiwakes. I’ve made out five different gulls, 
the Arctic tern, several jaegers, three murres, 
some old squaws and there are several birds I 
didn’t know. I’m just naming water birds.” 

“That reminds me!” broke in Harry. “The 
Sky Pilot gave me some books for the shack. 
They’re in my chest. I forgot to unpack ’em. 
There’s a bird book among ’em, and that’ll 
help us identify them.” 

“Good!” exclaimed Al, vastly pleased. 
“What other books did he give you? We’ll 
need ’em after the cold weather and the dark 
sets in.” 


202 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“A Bible, Thomas a Kempis, a hymn 
book, The Art of Self-Defense , David Cop- 
perfield, a book of Wordsworth’s poems, and 
Three Years of Arctic Service by Greely. 
That’s in two volumes, and it’ll make dandy 
reading this winter. It’s the story of the 
Lady Franklin Bay Expedition, when Brain- 
ard and Lockwood got farther north than any 
explorers ever had been, and it tells about the 
men starving and dying, most all of ’em, right 
up here at Cape Sabine. Cape Sabine is over 
on the Ellesmere Land side and they say we 
can see it from Annootok. I forgot to men- 
tion two pairs of boxing gloves in the pack- 
age.” 

“Fine! Bible, boxing gloves, hymns, ex- 
ploration, fiction, poetry, and a book on the 
science of boxing,” laughed Al. “That’s a 
good variety. It’s like the Sky Pilot too.” 

It was a rocky and desolate shore along 
which they were passing, with the land rising 
in naked hills and precipitous cliffs. But the 
bird life of cliffs and waters offered food for 
conversation, as well as the animal life of the 
sea. Seals and walrus were numerous, and 


The Hurricaru 


203 


three or four narwhals were seen, two of 
them with particularly fine tusks. 

“I’m hungrier’n all tarnation,” Shanks an- 
nounced in the early afternoon. “I wonder 
if the Eskimos ain’t goin’ ashore to eat. I’ll 
ask ’em.” 

“Yes, ask ’em,” Harry seconded. “I’m 
hungry too.” 

The Eskimos laughed good-naturedly at 
the suggestion, but objected on the ground 
that the good weather might not continue, 
and they should take advantage of it to reach 
Annootok. But after a discussion that lasted 
several minutes, Sipsook, who was acting as 
helmsman, turned the boat into a convenient 
nook in the rocks, and Etookluk, asking 
Shanks for his tea kettle, climbed up the 
rocks, presently returning with the kettle 
filled with water. Then, without further de- 
lay, Sipsook again turned the boat upon its 
course. 

The Eskimos had provided themselves with 
a stone lamp and a quantity of seal blubber, 
and while A1 trimmed the sails, Etookluk 
proceeded to arrange the lamp in the bottom 


204 


The Young Arctic Traders 


of the boat and to squeeze the oil from seal 
blubber into it until it was nearly filled. Ar- 
ranging moss along one edge to serve as a 
wick, be lighted the moss, and with the aid 
of a boathook suspended the kettle of water 
over the flames to boil for tea. 

“I reckon we’re goin’ to have tea and 
grub,” observed Shanks. “Leastways it looks 
that way. I’m goin’ to fry some bacon and 
make a real meal of it.” 

“The frying pan is in the box forward,” 
said Al. “I put it there.” 

In a half-hour the air was filled with the 
appetizing odor of frying bacon, and present- 
ly all were eating bacon and hardtack, and 
drinking tea, with the appetites that only 
those who live in the open can enjoy. 

The sun set, and the wind died with the 
coming of twilight. The sails flapped idly, 
and Al and Shanks reefed them, and then all 
hands turned to the oars, for Sipsook told 
them they were so near Annootok that it 
would be better to go on than to go ashore 
and camp. 

There was a full moon, and as twilight 



Gigantic icebergs, like turreted castles, rose high above a black and somber sea 




The Hurricane 


205 


fell the bergs dotting Smith Sound on every 
side resolved themselves, as by magic, into 
turreted castles, or great cathedrals with lofty 
white spires rising high above a black and 
somber sea. The water fell from the oar 
blades like liquid fire, and a trail of fire fol- 
lowed in the wake of the boat. 

“Phosphorus,” remarked Al. “I never saw 
it so bright before — so much of it.” 

“ ’Tis queer, ain’t it!” said Shanks. “Seems 
like the water’s on fire.” 

“Aren’t the icebergs magnificent! Don’t 
they look bully!” exclaimed Harry. “You’d 
think they’d last forever, they’re so big and 
solid, and they say we see only about one- 
ninth of them, and that eight-ninths are sub- 
merged. In a year or two I suppose they’ll 
all be melted and gone, with new ones to take 
their places.” 

“But just think how long they’ve been mak- 
ing,” said Al. “The old glaciers from which 
they broke reach away back into the interior. 
Greenland is covered by an ice cap between 
two and three thousand feet thick. This ice 
cap with the glaciers flowing out of it is 


206 The Young Arctic Traders 


formed from snow packed to terrific hard- 
ness, and must have been thousands of years 
in forming.” 

“Jiminy! I never thought of that!” Shanks 
exclaimed. “I just thought of ’em as hunks 
of ice freezin’ up for four or five years and 
then startin’ out as bergs.” 

“Some of the glaciers have their head a 
long way back in the interior,” said Al. 
“They keep working down a few feet every 
year, and when they extend far enough out 
into the sea the end breaks off and becomes 
a berg.” 

“There must be a lot of glaciers in Green- 
land,” observed Shanks. “There’s a big crop 
of bergs each year anyhow.” 

Sipsook suddenly announced that here was 
Annootok, and a few moments later they drew 
in to the rocky shore. Although the twilight 
of midnight shadowed the sea they had been 
observed and a crowd of men, women, and 
children were at the landing place to give 
them a noisy greeting. 

There were many hands to unload the boat 
and to haul it to a safe place, and Al, Harry, 


The Hurricane 


207 


and Shanks were hospitably invited to spend 
the night in one of the least crowded tupeks . 
As in all Eskimo habitations the odor was 
most offensive. Pieces of seal and walrus 
meat were lying about in various stages of 
decomposition, and mingled with this odor 
was that of rancid oil. The lads, however, 
had become to some extent accustomed to 
these conditions in visiting the tupeks at Etah, 
and now they were tired and welcomed the 
opportunity to rest in comparative warmth, 
for the night was frosty and cold. 

A few hours’ work on the deserted ex- 
plorer’s hut the following day placed it in 
fairly habitable condition, though it was not 
nearly so comfortable as their own shack at 
Etah. But there was an old stove and some 
coal, and it was decided that it would answer 
well enough for a place to stay during short 
visits to Annootok during the winter. 

“I’m for going back to Etah while the go- 
ing is good,” suggested Al. “We can leave 
our grub here, and come up with some of the 
Eskimos with dogs later on.” 

“That’s what I say,” agreed Harry. “We 


208 The Young Arctic Traders 


can do as much trade there as here anyhow, 
for all the Eskimos coming here have to pass 
through Etah.” 

“We’ve been havin’ a long spell of fine 
weather,” said Shanks. “ ’Tain’t goin’ to last. 
If we’re goin’ back by boat we’d better be 
goin’ just as quick as ever we can get out’n 
here, and I think we better go early tomor- 
row mornin’.” 

“All right, in the morning as early as we 
can get away,” agreed Al. “I’m homesick for 
that little old shack at Etah.” 

“Will Sipsook be ready to go then?” asked 
Harry. “He won’t stay here, will he?” 

“I’ll ask him,” said Shanks. “Etookluk’s 
goin’ to stay. I know that. His folks are 
here.” 

Sipsook quite agreed that they should re- 
turn at once, and announced that a young man 
named Alingwah wished to go with them. 
This was highly satisfactory, as it would make 
an ample crew for the boat, should they find 
it necessary to resort to the oars. 

Accordingly they made ready for an early 
start, and after a few hours sleep, and a hur- 


The Hurricane 


209 


ried breakfast the boat was launched, and 
amid a tumultuous farewell from the assem- 
bled population they set sail for Etah. 

“It’s just like punkin pie to be goin’ back,” 
grinned Shanks, when he had trimmed the 
sails and settled in the bow of the boat, 
stretching his long legs comfortably. “The 
little old shack down at Etah kinder seems 
homelike after cornin’ up here.” 

“That’s the way I feel,” sighed A1 with 
satisfaction. “Comfort is always a matter of 
contrast, and what you’re used to. Dig your 
hand in that bag of hard biscuits, Harry, and 
pass ’em around. I want something to chew 
on and then I’ll feel I’ve got all I need to 
complete my comfort. It’ll make the Eski- 
mos happy, too.” 

“And it’ll make me happy,” laughed 
Harry, untying the bag. “I couldn’t half eat 
up there in the tupek this morning, it smelled 
so high.” 

Harry tossed a hardtack biscuit to A1 and 
one to Shanks and to each of the Eskimos, 
who grinned appreciatively at the unexpected 
treat. 


210 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“That land we can just see over there must 
be Cape Sabine,” said Harry, pointing to a 
barely visible shore line, as he munched his 
biscuit. “That’s where so many of the Lady 
Franklin Bay party perished. We’ll have to 
read that book by Greely. It’ll make our 
little hardships seem like nothing. Those fel- 
lows were real heroes. I read a part of it on 
the ship.” 

There was a fine breeze and they bowled 
along at good speed, chatting and dozing. At 
noon they ran ashore, and Sipsook sent Aling- 
wah up the rocks for a kettle of water, and, 
as formerly, they made tea, and Shanks fried 
bacon, and, as A1 remarked, they had a “cozy 
enough meal for any ship.” 

“See them sails” said Shanks in midafter- 
noon. “The wind’s failin’, and if she keeps 
failin’ we’ll be at the oars pretty soon.” 

“And we’ve been making such good time!” 
exclaimed Harry. “Isn’t it a shame!” 

Shanks was right. With ominous sudden- 
ness the breeze fell to nearly a dead calm. 

“It looks bad,” said Shanks, “the wind 
failin’ so quick.” 


The Hurricane 


211 


While the sails were reefed and the masts 
unstepped and stowed, the Eskimos glanced 
uneasily at the sky, and up and down the 
shore. It was evident they were concerned, 
and Shanks asked them the reason for it. His 
interpretation of Sipsook’s reply was: 

“Maybe a big blow coming. Must row 
hard and find a place to land.” 

The Eskimos, more than ordinarily anx- 
ious, pulled mightily at the oars, and the 
lads kept the stroke, with Shanks bellowing 
a chantey: 

Away we go on the rolling sea, 

Pull, lads, pull ! 

The land is no place for you and me, 

Pull, lads, pull ! 

We’ll sail from Bedford to Kiglepat, 

Pull, lads, pull ! 

We’ll gather a cargo rich and fat, 

Pull, lads, pull! 

We’ll get the oil and the ivory too, 

Pull, lads, pull! 

We’ll trade with heathen for fox pelts blue, 

Pull, lads, pull ! 

Though seas are rough into which we go, 

Pull, lads, pull ! 


212 The Young Arctic Traders 

We’ll laugh at the gale and pounding floe, 

Pull, lads, pull! 

Let other men curse the Northland cold, 

Pull, lads, pull ! 

We’ll find in the ice a pot of gold, 

Pull, lads, pull! 

There was not much music in Shanks’ 
voice, but there was action in the intonation 
of his chantey. With each “Pull, lads, pull!” 
Harry and A 1 joined their voices and their 
strength and even the Eskimos gave a longer, 
stronger stroke. 

Presently a sloping shore offered a con- 
venient, though not altogether desirable land- 
ing place, where the boat was run into a par- 
tially sheltered cove, and with all haste the 
cargo was discharged and carried well out of 
reach of the breaking seas. 

Hardly had this been accomplished when 
the first blasts of the promised hurricane 
broke upon them. It came so suddenly that 
Harry, who was leaning over a box that he 
had carried back from the boat, was swept 
from his feet and sent sprawling upon the 
rocks. The Eskimos had already thrown 


The Hurricane 


213 


themselves prone, with their faces upon their 
arms, and the lads followed their example. 

The wind lifted the boat and turned it over 
and over until it lodged against a ledge 
twenty feet inland. Sleeping bags and other 
articles of equipment were whisked away and 
the prostrate men were drenched by icy spray. 

For half an hour the hurricane raged in 
all its fury, and then, almost as suddenly as 
it had risen, the wind fell to no more than a 
stiff breeze. Then the wet and shivering lads 
rose and took account of things. 

None of their belongings were to be seen, 
save the stone lamp and some seal meat and 
blubber, which had been turned out of the 
boat as it rolled upon the rocks. The masts, 
with the sails reefed and lashed to them, were 
also found where they had fallen. The boat 
itself, it was discovered, had three planks 
badly smashed, and was unseaworthy. 

The temperature had fallen with the wind, 
and was now below zero. Twilight would 
fall in an hour, and the lads, soaked from the 
spray and with chattering teeth, surveyed the 
wreckage with sinking hearts. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

THE PERILS OF THE FLOE 

T HE Eskimos accepted the occurrence as 
a matter of course. They laughed good- 
naturedly, and, indeed, were quite as uncon- 
cerned as though an Arctic hurricane were a 
daily and to-be-expected experience. They 
were, perhaps, congratulating themselves that 
it had not occurred while they were afloat, 
for the boat 'in that case could not have kept 
from sinking. 

All hands turned their attention at once to 
a search for the scattered cargo. There were 
three boxes in which food was stored, and 
these and the heavier equipment were found 
not far away. The sleeping bags and lighter 
things had been carried a much longer dis- 
tance, but in the end they were found lodged 
against rocks, though the farthest of them was 
a full half-mile from the boat. 

Then a careful examination of the boat was 
made. 


214 


The Perils of the Floe 


215 


“I can fix her,” Shanks assured, “but 
’twon’t be a very good fix. She’ll be all right 
though to take us to Etah I guess.” 

“There’s one consolation,” said Harry. 
“We’re not very far from Etah.” 

“Like as not,” suggested Shanks, “we’ll 
have to go afoot. More’n likely ice’ll block 
us before this wind settles.” 

In the shelter of a large bowlder, with the 
masts as a support, a tent was improvised 
from the sails. The Eskimos had salvaged 
their stone lamp and a quantity of blubber, 
and when the lamp was lighted and a kettle 
of water suspended over the flaming oil for 
tea, Harry declared he had never been so mis- 
erably cold in his life. 

“So’m I,” admitted Shanks, “but it ain’t 
a peek-a-boo to what we’re goin’ to have 
bimeby. What I hate is the long night, when 
winter comes, and the wind blows forty knots 
an hour, and the snow’s so thick a feller can’t 
breathe if he’s out in it. I reckon we can’t 
call it cold till it’s fifty or sixty below zero! 
That’s what freezes a feller’s heart out and 
makes his bones crack.” 


2l6 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“I’m dreading that, too,” said Al. “I 
haven’t forgotten last winter.” 

“But we had a bully good time,” cheered 
Harry. “It was worth all the hard knocks.” 

“And when we get home,” grinned Shanks, 
“we’ll be forgettin’ all about the tough times 
and want to get into it again. What a passel 
of fools men be! I wonder sometimes when 
I’m here whatever makes a feller want to 
come back to the Arctic when he gets out of 
it once.” 

“I’ll tell you what it is,” said Al. “Real 
men like to fight their own way in the world, 
and up here in the Arctic there is a constant 
fight against Nature for existence. When a 
man wins he feels that he’s a man , able to 
stand square upon his feet and face the world. 
He feels that he’s done something, and seen 
and felt something worth while. He comes 
back to it to feel the thrill of it again, for he 
learns to love it. Down in the crowded cities 
a man is just an atom. Here he’s a Thing , 
not a mere atom.” 

“What’s that you’re saying?” asked Harry, 
who had stepped out in the gathering dark- 


The Perils of the Floe 


217 


ness to bring into the shelter a bag of sea 
biscuit. 

“I was remarking,” said Al, “that in the 
cities back home a man is just an atom. Here 
he’s a Thing , the master of himself and the 
world he lives in.” 

“True as anything you ever said,” agreed 
Harry. “But there’s something more to it. 
When I looked up at the sky outside just 
now, I thought of some verses I read once and 
liked so well I remembered them. They were 
written by someone named Sheard : 

Beneath the vast illimitable spaces 

Where God has set His jewels in array, 

A man may pitch his tent in desert places, 

Yet know that heaven is not so far away. 

But in the city — in the lighted city 

Where gilded spires point upward towards 
the sky, 

And fluttering rags and hunger ask for pity, 
Grey Loneliness in cloth-of-gold goes by. 

“That does hit it,” said Al. “I can’t re- 
member that I’ve ever been really lonely 
here.” 


218 The Young Arctic Traders 


“You’re plumb right,” agreed Shanks. “A 
feller’s kept too doggoned busy here to get 
lonesome.” 

Then they fell silent while they drank hot 
tea and munched sea biscuits, sharing their 
food with the Eskimos but refusing the hos- 
pitable offer of raw seal meat and blubber 
urged upon them by their savage companions. 

“We may’s well turn in and try to get 
warm,” suggested Shanks when their meager 
meal was ended. 

“I’m cold enough and tired enough for it,” 
said Al. 

They stretched their sleeping bags upon the 
rocky floor of the shelter and slipped into 
them. In the dim, smoky light they lay and 
watched the Eskimos holding great pieces of 
dark seal meat in their fists and regularly tak- 
ing the end between their teeth and cutting 
the mouthful off at their lips with a knife. 
And thus, with the Eskimos still gorging 
upon meat and sea biscuits and tea, the three 
lads fell into sound and dreamless sleep. 

With the combined effort of the five voy- 
ageursj nearly two hours were consumed the 


The Perils of the Floe 


219 


following morning in dragging the disabled 
boat to the water’s edge. There, utilizing 
pieces of one of the boxes, temporary repairs 
were made. A moderate sea was still run- 
ning, but the wind had subsided and it was 
agreed that they should set sail for Etah at 
once. 

Accordingly, the boat was launched, and 
the cargo stowed. Already Shanks’ predic- 
tion was fulfilled. Ice was drifting down 
upon them. Stray pans were rising and fall- 
ing upon the waves. It was evident that 
haste was imperative if they were to escape 
the jam which would presently clog the sea. 

A fair breeze permitted the restep of the 
light masts and then hoisting of the sails, 
though good seamanship was required to 
avoid the ice pans which now surrounded 
them. At length this danger became so 
threatening that it was found desirable to 
again reef the sails, unstep the masts and rely 
upon the oars, which enabled them to ma- 
neuver more quickly. 

A heavy sea was running. The ice drift 
was shoreward. On the horizon it appeared 


220 The Young Arctic Traders 


as a solid pack, and in the distance they could 
see great pans raised upon edge and toppled 
over by the mighty force of the pack behind, 
and there came to them, like the roar of dis- 
tant artillery, the roar of smashing ice. 

Vagrant pans that had drifted in advance 
of the main pack filled the open sea, and sur- 
rounded them. Some of these were mere 
fragments while others were nearly a quarter 
of a mile in diameter, and several feet in 
thickness. 

To avoid these pans required the utmost 
skill. They were almost within sight of Etah, 
after many narrow escapes from the pans, 
when a roller sent a pan smashing down upon 
them. With mighty effort the boat was turned 
sharply, but not quickly enough to escape a 
glancing blow upon its bow of a projecting 
corner of the ice pan. There was a crushing 
and splintering of wood, a rush of water, and 
a sudden realization that they were sinking 
in the icy seas. 


CHAPTER XIX 

THE MAROONED CONSPIRATORS 
AIN’T human, that’s what I says,” 



A Levine rolled his quid from the right 
to the left cheek, and then spat vindictively 
upon the unoffending rocks. “No, sir! No 
human master of any ship that sails would 
have done this. Here he up and leaves us to 
shift with the huskies. I says what I thinks, 
I does. I says it right out to anybody’s face. 
He’s the most unhuman master I ever sails 
with, and I hopes I’ll never sail with another 
like him, that’s what I says.” 

Levine’s auditors made no remarks. Marx 
and Inkovitch either agreed with him wholly 
or were in a state of mind that sank them be- 
neath or lifted them above speech. And the 
smiling Eskimos understood not a word of 
what he said. 

Quite unexpectedly to themselves the three 
pirates had been loaded into a boat and 
dumped upon the naked rocks that formed 


221 


222 


The Young Arctic Traders 


the shores of Inglefield Gulf. Here they 
found, piled upon the same rocks, a quantity 
of stores for their use, including three rifles, 
three shotguns, and sufficient ammunition for 
ordinary needs. These had been sent ashore 
in advance of them, and when they were or- 
dered into the boat that brought them ashore, 
Captain Mugford had personally advised 
them that they were to make the most of what 
they found, adding that they would have to 
keep busy and that their survival of the win- 
ter would depend upon their own exertions, 
for they were to receive small assistance from 
the Eskimos. He also added that they might 
thank the saints that he had not peremptorily 
hanged them all, as he would have been justi- 
fied in doing, and that he would call for them 
and pick them up when the ice cleared dur- 
ing the following summer, for he “wished to 
see them safely in jail, where they belonged.” 

It was a gloomy prospect. Levine accepted 
it in his usual matter-of-fact manner, but his 
companions, if their present dejected appear- 
ance reflected their thoughts, were in a well- 
nigh hopelessly despondent state of mind. 


The Marooned Conspirators 223 


Levine was simply resentful and hurt that he, 
a tender, harmless soul, should have been 
treated with so little consideration. 

“We does nothin’ to have this put on us,” 
he continued. “Just a scrap. They wouldn’t 
have licked us though, if they’d acted fair. 
Down they goes to my chest and takes my gun. 
That wa’n’t fair and square now, was it?” 

No one answered. 

“No, ’twa’n’t,” he spat emphatically. 
“ ’Twa’n’t fair, that’s what I says, sneakin’ 
into a man’s private chest, and takin’ his gun. 
If they hadn’t took my gun I’d have plugged 
the mate and second mate sure. I could have 
got ’em both easy — dropped ’em at the start 
off. And they takes your gun too, Marx. 
That Sky Pilot don’t play fair neither. He 
hits a feller without givin’ him a chance to 
hit back. I’m fair, I am. I wouldn’t knock 
a feller down without givin’ him any chance 
to fight. I’m fair and square every time. 
That’s me.” 

“We vill all die alreaty,” mourned Marx. 

“I don’t say as we’ll die,” said Levine. 
“Leastways not yet. But what I says is, it’s 


224 The Young Arctic Traders 


unhuman to leave us here. ’Tain’t square. 
We’ll make out though and I reckon we bet- 
ter be startin’ in to fix things up.” 

“I’ll get a knife between that Sky Pilot’s 
ribs yet,” growled Inkovitch. 

“That’s the talk now, mate,” said Levine 
admiringly. “I knowed they couldn’t put 
you down for long. That there Sky Pilot 
ain’t fair, that’s what I says. He ups and 
preaches and makes us think he’s religious 
and all the time he’s a fighter. That ain’t 
playin’ fair, I says.” 

Levine had spent other winters in the Arc- 
tic, and he had sufficient command of the 
Eskimo tongue to conduct a restricted con- 
versation with his hosts and neighbors. From 
them he learned that there were three or four 
vacant winter igloos here and of these he and 
his friends might choose the one that best 
suited them. Kuglutook assured them that 
they were good igloos, and would be found 
most comfortable — quite equal, indeed, to 
the best the country afforded. 

The Eskimos also volunteered the informa- 
tion that their visitors had fortunately come 


The Marooned Conspirators 22$ 


to an excellent hunting place. In the waters 
were walrus, and seals were abundant. Rein- 
deer could be found not far inland. Ducks 
and other water fowl would be plentiful until 
cold weather drove the birds southward, and 
hares and ptarmigans were to be hunted in 
the country round about. 

Kuglutook, Chevik, and a young Eskimo 
named Edingwah guided them to the vacant 
igloos, or, as they called them, igloosoaks, 
meaning big igloo, a misnomer at best, for 
the interior of the largest measured not above 
twelve feet square. They were built against 
a hillside and constructed of stones and earth. 
The entrance was through a stone passage- 
way perhaps thirty feet in length and so low 
that they were compelled to crawl on hands 
and knees in going in or out. This was to 
exclude cold during the winter, when it would 
be covered deep under the snow. 

Within, the igloos were wet and cold, and 
permeating every corner was the stench of 
decayed seal meat and rancid oil. It was an 
odor so offensive as to be nauseating, and 
Marx and Inkovitch retreated in disgust. 


226 The Young Arctic Traders 


Levine, however, familiar through previous 
experience with the Eskimo’s mode of life, 
and anticipating both the stench and the gen- 
eral condition of the igloos, inspected thor- 
oughly the three shown them by the Eskimo 
guides and finally chose the one that he 
deemed least objectionable. 

“We’re in luck now, that’s what I says,” 
he announced upon rejoining Inkovitch and 
Marx. “I picks the end one. It’s a bit open 
between the stones, but the snow’ll caulk the 
seams, and we’ll find it a snug enough berth 
when winter comes. We’ll heave our anchor 
right here. It’s a fine berth to lay to in, 
that’s what I says.” 

“I could not liff in such a place!” ex- 
claimed Marx in disgust. “It ees the worst 
smell I haff alreaty yet smelled in my nose!” 

“It is horrible!” Inkovitch burst out. “I 
thought I must heave up!” 

“’Tis a bit rank, that’s what I says,” con- 
soled Levine, “but it’s the best we got, and 
we’ll have to take what we gets. We won’t 
mind a little smell when the weather tightens 
up.” 


The Marooned Conspirators 227 


“But it ees wet!” objected Marx. “We vill 
die alreaty yet.” 

“I finds two stone lamps in the one I 
picks,” said Levine. “When we gets ’em goin’ 
they’ll dry her out. It’s the ups and downs 
of life, mates. Now we’re up and now we’re 
down. Take the downs like the ups, that’s 
what I says. That’s me. Take things as they 
comes, fair winds and foul. That’s square 
and fair now. That’s what I says.” 

But there was no choice. In the end the 
three pirates accepted with as much grace as 
their natures would permit the unwholesome 
quarters allotted them. With a thorough 
cleaning their igloo was to some extent freed 
from the objectionable odors and was at least 
made habitable. 

“Here we be,” said Levine when they had 
arranged their possessions and quarters, not 
to their satisfaction, but to the best of their 
ability, and returned to a rock outside to 
drink tea made over an Eskimo lamp and eat 
hardtack. “Here we be, free as the birds but 
without so much of comfort as we should have 
and may have. It was unhuman, I says, to 


228 The Young Arctic Traders 


put us here. That's what I says. But I like- 
wise says, it gives us a chance. 

“I’ve a plan now for us to make a bit out 
of it, and to get away in the end with whole 
hides. There’s a chance, I says, to clean up a 
bit out of the old man, and have a reckoning 
with the Stowaways and Shanks. 

“ ’Twas them that took our guns when we 
was after the whale. ’Twa’n’t fair. I can’t 
stand for unfairness, not me. They took the 
guns and didn’t leave us a fair show in the 
scrap. We’ve a chance to even up the score, 
and as I were sayin’ make a bit to our profit. 
I’m a thinkin’ man, I am, and I’ve thought 
her all out, start to finish. 

“The old man without intention ups and 
gives us our chance. Luck’ll come our way 
if we takes our luck, and I says take her. Take 
the ups like the downs, that’s what I says. 
That’s me, mates.” 

“What’s the luck you’re talking about?” 
growled Inkovitch. 

“It’s this way,” explained Levine. “The 
old man goes and builds a fine shack at Etah 
for the Stowaways and Shanks. He fills her 


The Marooned Conspirators 229 


with grub and traders’ goods, and sets ’em up 
in fine shape with as snug and warm a berth 
as anyone could want. That’s the beginnings, 
says I. 

“Etah in straight sailin’ is only about 
eighty knots or thereabouts to the nuth’ard. 
Near enough and far enough, says I. The 
huskies has dogs. They ain’t like a ship but 
they’ll carry a man straight enough to any 
port within reason. That’s the next thing, 
says I, not too far and not too near and 
straight sailin’ for dogs. 

“We’ll get our bearings and when the 
sailin’ comes fair for dogs, we’ll p’int our 
course to Etah. The shack is ours and the 
things that’s in it, grub and all, and we’ll do 
the tradin’ with the huskies. There’s plenty 
of room in the sea for the three lads, and 
they’ll make fine eatin’ for the seals, if seals 
like that kind of eatin’. That’s what I says. 
What say you, mates?” 

“It vas they, alreaty, vat spoilt our game, 
und I vill nefer again pe happy vonce till I 
get’s a knife petween the rips of all of them,” 
remarked Marx viciously. 


2 30 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“We have no dogs,” objected Inkovitch. 

“There’s plenty of husky dogs about, and 
where there’s dogs we gets dogs if we wants 
’em. That’s what I says. That’s how I does 
things. Rough and ready and at ’em. If 
there’s anything around that you wants, take 
it. That’s me. It’s as good for me and for 
you to have what we wants as for anybody. 
Ain’t that so, mates?” 

“Where there’s dogs there’s huskies that 
own ’em,” growled Inkovitch. “We could 
take the dogs and they’re as much ours as 
theirs if we want ’em. But there’ll be ten 
huskies to one of us, and they’ll get us if we 
take the dogs.” 

“Right you are, mate,” agreed Levine. 
“We’ll hire a husky with his team to haul us 
and pay him with some of the things in the 
shack for the cruise. The things are as good 
as ours now. They belongs to us by rights, 
that’s what I says. Give the huskies a few 
jimcracks and they’ll be fixed. That’s me. 
Pay for what you gets and pay as you goes. 
Ain’t that square, mates? Fair and square 
and straight dealin’. That’s me.” 


The Marooned Conspirators 23 1 


“How’ll we get out of the country if we 
don’t go on the Sea Lion? ,} asked Inkovitch. 
“You know this country and these seas. Tell 
me that now.” 

“We’ll never let the old man get us on the 
Sea Lion again. Not for me, mates. That’s 
what I says,” Levine cut a chew of tobacco 
from a plug and tucked it into his left cheek. 
“The old man left a boat with the lads at 
Etah. We’re sailors, we be. Get that, now. 
All fixed for us, says I, fine and shipshape. 
We gets the boat and when the ice clears we 
crosses to Ellesmere Land, over to the 
west’ard, across the sound. Then we hugs 
the coast cruisin’ to the suth’ard till we runs 
into a trader. There’s sure to be a British 
trader over there to pick us up. We tells 
’em we’re lost from our ship, and they takes 
us aboard and lands us in England or Scot- 
land. We has the furs and ivory from the 
trade at Etah, and we’re fixed good enough 
to make another start. That’s the course I 
lays out on the chart. That’s me. Lay your 
course out ahead and then follow the course. 
That’s what I says.” 


232 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“It ess not so pad a vay to do,” said Marx 
hopefully. “Levine, you haff a goot head 
alreaty.” 

“Too many huskies around,” objected In- 
kovitch. “The plan is a good one though.” 

“Now you speaks sense,” Levine spat 
thoughtfully. “In the last of the winter when 
the days come long the huskies goes musk 
ox huntin’ to the nuth’ard. When they’re 
through the hunt they cruises to the suth’ard 
in their sledges. When they passes this port 
we’ll find out how many of ’em is still an- 
chored to the nuth’ard. We’ll keep a weather 
eye to things, we will. Then we’ll get one of 
’em with dogs to take us cruisin’ to the 
nuth’ard. How’s that, mates?” 

“There’ll be some of ’em in the north, and 
they’ll be in our way,” suggested Inkovitch. 

“We all has rifles and know the way to use 
’em. That’s what I says. Here, take a chaw, 
Inkovitch, it’s good to help a feller think 
things out,” and Levine passed his plug of 
tobacco to Inkovitch, who cut a liberal chew 
and passed the plug on to Marx. “The few 
huskies as are left to the nuth’ard won’t count, 


The Marooned Conspirators 233 


says I. We’ll send ’em cruisin’ with their 
sledges to the suth’ard and if they don’t go, 
it’s easy to pot ’em off. We know how. Then 
we’ll be off in the boat before trouble comes 
lookin’ for us. That’s me, do things, that’s 
what I says. Do ’em right and fair.” 

“Und first we put the knife into the rips 
of those Stowaways and Shanks,” growled 
Marx vindictively. 

“Sure!” assented Levine good-naturedly. 
“And after we’ve stuck ’em we’ll heave ’em 
in the sea for a long bath. Anything you 
likes, mates. That’s me, always ready to 
please folks.” 

“We’ll wait for long days in the spring 
then,” agreed Inkovitch. “It’s a good plan, 
Levine, and a fair chance to make our get- 
away. If the old man ever gets us back on 
the Sea Lion he’ll have us in prison, and I 
don’t intend to go to prison.” 

“None of us does, mates, and there’s no 
call for it,” said Levine confidently. “No 
prisons for us. Rough and ready, free and 
easy, go where we wants to, says I. That’s 
me, mates. Be our own master, up and down 


234 The Young Arctic Traders 


and all the time. Take the downs when they 
come, and the ups when they come, and 
square our sails away for the best breeze that 
blows.” 

And thus the plan of the pirates was 
roughly laid, to be worked out in finer de- 
tails in the dark weeks of the Arctic night. 


. CHAPTER XX 

A CRY IN THE NIGHT 

S IPSOOK and Alingwah were on the ice 
pan in an instant, clinging to the bow of 
the boat, and lifting it. 

“Jump for it,” shouted Al, and Harry and 
Shanks followed the Eskimos while Al re- 
mained in the boat to pass out to Harry and 
Shanks their sleeping bags and packages of 
provisions as well as the blubber, seal meat, 
and stone lamp belonging to the Eskimos. 
Then he followed to the ice pan, thoroughly 
water soaked as were his companions and the 
cargo. 

Fortunately they were on the lee side of 
the ice pan. Otherwise the transference of 
the cargo would have been much more diffi- 
cult, if not impossible. The pan was fully 
thirty yards in diameter, and solid enough to 
offer present protection. 

With the effort of all hands the bow of the 
235 


236 The Young Arctic Traders 


boat was elevated to raise the breach above 
the water line, and here it was held while 
Shanks bailed out the water. Thus light- 
ened, the boat was finally hauled upon the 
pan and drawn sufficiently far from the edge 
to escape the flying spray. 

The breach was partially below the water 
line on the starboard bow. Sipsook and 
Alingwah examined it, and after a lengthy 
discussion, Alingwah knocked one of the 
boxes apart with a hatchet that Shanks had 
fortunately included in the equipment and 
drew the nails. Utilizing the boards and 
nails, the Eskimos applied a sheathing over 
the breach on the outside. This done, they 
packed the hole on the inside with seal blub- 
ber and with the remaining boards sealed the 
breach on the inside. Thus the oily blubber, 
plugging the hole, was held firmly in place 
by the outside and inside sheathing. 

When repairs were completed the boat was 
again launched and, though it leaked slightly 
at the damaged point, it was deemed suffi- 
ciently seaworthy to complete the voyage to 
Etah. 


A Cry in the Night 


237 


Ice was accumulating and haste was im- 
perative. The cargo was stowed, and the 
shivering lads were glad enough an hour 
later to pull into Etah and seek the warmth 
of the shack. And presently, when A1 had 
lighted a fire in the stove, and in response to 
Shanks’ efforts coffee and frying bacon filled 
the room with delicious odor, Harry could 
not restrain the remark: 

“This is a bully fine place, now isn’t it, 
fellows? It’s cozy enough for anybody and 
a good place to stick close to.” 

They busied themselves during the follow- 
ing weeks hunting sea fowl, ptarmigans, and 
Arctic hares, and storing for the winter such 
of the game as they could not immediately 
use, for the weather was already cold enough 
to freeze and keep it sweet. 

As snow began to accumulate, they set fox 
traps in the surrounding country, and both 
guns and traps yielded them well. 

One day they were so fortunate as to kill 
four reindeer, which they came upon unex- 
pectedly in a valley two or three miles from 
camp. The Eskimos harnessed their dogs to 


238 The Young Arctic Traders 


the sledges and hauled the carcasses to Etah. 
The lads divided the meat with them and to 
both Eskimos and white men the venison 
came as a welcome addition to their supply 
of fresh food. 

One midnight in the middle of August and 
a few days before the Sea Lion left, the sun 
dipped for the first time below the horizon. 
Following this came a midnight twilight, and 
then midnight darkness, with day rapidly 
shortening and the night, with corresponding 
rapidity, increasing in length. 

With the shortening days came storms of 
terrific fury and steadily increasing cold. In 
mid-September a blizzard burst upon the 
barren wilderness one night, and during the 
three days that it raged the young men found 
it unsafe to venture a dozen feet from the 
door. 

While they were thus held prisoners in the 
shack, Harry brought forth the books and 
boxing gloves given him by the Sky Pilot. 
Though the space was narrow for boxing, 
they nevertheless had some rare fun with the 
gloves, and many profitable hours were spent 


A Cry in the Night 


239 


with the books. Harry and Al, by turns, read 
aloud from Greely’s Three Years of Arctic 
Service . They traveled with the explorers in 
imagination, more real because they were in 
the very country now themselves. They felt 
the thrill that Lockwood and Brainard must 
have felt upon reaching the farthest northern 
point that man ever had reached. And they 
suffered with the intrepid explorers at Cape 
Sabine during the dark days of disaster, when 
one after another of the brave men fell victim 
to starvation and was carried away to his long 
and lonely sleep on the ice-clad rocks, far 
from home and friends. 

When, finally, the sky cleared, and they 
were free to go out again and look about 
them, the lads discovered that the little auks 
and other birds had abandoned their rook- 
eries in the cliffs, and with them all the sea 
fowl had disappeared, not to return again 
until the long months of winter were at an 
end. With the going of the birds a new deso- 
lation fell upon the land. The birds had 
linked them in a way with their far-off home, 
and now after the flocks had gone the lads 


240 


The Young Arctic Traders 


felt much as a man feels who has been de- 
serted by life-long friends. 

Intense and bitter cold followed the storm, 
and the gale had set in motion a southern 
drift of ice on Smith Sound filling the days 
and nights with the roar and thunder of 
crashing, pounding pans. The dark, long 
winter was at hand, and the Eskimos made 
final preparations to meet it. Sipsook, Muk- 
luk, Alingtoah, and four other families 
moved at once from their skin tupeks into the 
warmer igloos, which were now deeply cov- 
ered by snowdrifts, while the remaining Eski- 
mos harnessed their dogs to sledges and drove 
away to the northward to their winter homes 
at Annootok. 

The transfer of the Eskimos from tupeks 
to igloos was celebrated by an impressive 
religious ceremony in Sipsook’s igloo. The 
.removal to the igloos marked, with them, the 
end of the season of plenty and the eve of a 
fierce struggle through a long winter, for 
existence. Darkness came early, and the 
three lads were just finishing a belated sup- 
per by candlelight, when there floated in to 


A Cry in the Night 


241 


.them above the sound of crashing ice, the 
voices of women moaning and sobbing and 
breaking in hysterical wails and lamenta- 
tions. As quickly as possible, the lads donned 
their warm clothing and hurried out. 

On the ice foot, not far away, stood a 
woman, with arms extended toward the ice- 
bound sea, sobbing as though her heart 
would break. In the darkness of the pre- 
vious winter, her husband had been lost out 
there while hunting. Beyond was another 
woman, with a baby in the hood of her kule- 
tar, mourning the loss of her little boy who, 
in the spring, had slipped into the sea from 
the ice foot and was drowned. At intervals, 
along the ice foot, were others, all mourning 
the loss of loved ones that the black waters 
had swallowed and taken from them. 

“It makes a feller feel like cryin’, too,” 
said Shanks in subdued and reverent voice 
as the three stole quietly away. 

“What makes them all cry so just at this 
time?” asked Harry. 

“It’s their way of believin’,” explained 
Shanks. “These folks thinks that when the 


242 The Young Arctic Traders 


ice closes over the sea it covers the spirits of 
them that’s drowned and keeps ’em down. 
The ice has about covered Smith Sound, and 
there ain’t much open water left, and that 
means to ’em that their folks that’s drowned 
ain’t goin’ to have a chance to come up and 
look around till the ice breaks up again next 
spring. It’s a sort of religion with ’em.” 

“It is a gloomy thought for them if they 
believe it,” said Al. 

“They believe it,” assured Shanks. 

“Don’t the men believe it, too?” asked Al. 

“Course they do,” said Shanks, “but they 
don’t take on about it like the women. 
They’re havin’ their powwow up in Sipsook’s 
igloo. Let’s go up and see it.” 

“Let’s do,” agreed Harry. 

Shanks led the way, crawling through the 
long tunnel that led into Sipsook’s igloo. 
Within, the igloo was lighted by three stone 
lamps, in which moss served for wicks and 
seal oil for fuel, casting a weird, smoky illu- 
mination. An air of solemnity pervaded the 
place, and the lads quietly seated themselves 
at one side. Sipsook, in a half chant, dancing 


A Cry in the Night 


243 


and moving his body to and fro, at the same 
time was relating the history of a successful 
hunt. Then followed others, each in the 
same wild singsong chant, recounting some 
big event of the year, some achievement in 
hunting, or the passing of a notable storm. 
While they danced and shouted, they moved 
their arms in frantic gesticulations, and now 
and again their high-pitched voices broke 
into uncontrollable sobs, or they laughed 
hysterically. 

When each had chanted his story and fin- 
ished his fantastic dance, the men sat down, 
exhausted and silent. Presently Sipsook 
passed a remark, and in a little while the 
characteristic good nature of the simple 
people asserted itself, and they were laughing 
and chatting as happily as ever when the 
women, wiping away their tears, came back 
from their mourning on the shore. 

“What did it all mean?” asked A1 as he 
and Harry and Shanks walked down to their 
shack. 

“I dunno,” said Shanks. “It’s some of their 
heathen rigmarole. They gets these spells 


244 The Young Arctic Traders 


along about this time when the days gets short 
and the sun’s gettin’ ready to go. I kinder 
figger it this way. They feel blue when they 
thinks of not havin’ the sun for so long, and it 
brings down on ’em a feelin’ that the Lord 
Almighty is pretty close to the world. Not 
the Lord Almighty we think about, but some 
sort of spirit that has a lot to do with ’em. 
They’re superstitious critters.” 

“Are they really heathen?” asked Harry. 
“Won’t they worship as white people do?” 

“Eighteen-carat heathen,” laughed Shanks. 
“They never had anybody to tell ’em about 
God Almighty except the explorers, and I 
reckon the explorers that have knocked 
around these parts wa’n’t much up on reli- 
gion. Leastways the trail they’ve left behind 
’em don’t show it. Anyway they were pretty 
doggoned stingy of it if they had any religion 
in their systems. But I guess most of ’em 
didn’t have any more than they needed them- 
selves, and they never gave enough of it away 
to speak of.” 

“What is the Eskimo’s religion?” asked Al. 
“Do you know anything about it, Shanks?” 


A Cry in the Night 


245 


“There was an old feller on the ship when 
I was up here before told me somethin’ about 
it,” said Shanks. “There’s a big boss spirit 
and a lot of little spirits. They think there’s 
a little one in most every corner and the boss 
spirit orders the little ones to cut up ructions 
with folks. Whenever he takes a notion to 
get mad he has the little ones drive the seals 
and walrus away so there’s no huntin’, and 
that makes the folks hungry. Sometimes he 
kicks up storms, or drives the hunters on 
treacherous ice which breaks up, carrying 
them far out to sea. Everything that’s bad 
they lay to him. If he’s feelin’ good, he 
leaves ’em be and don’t kick up trouble for 
’em. That’s the best he does. 

“These goin’s on we’ve just seen was maybe 
a sort of pacifyin’ performance to keep these 
bad spirits quiet and satisfied for the winter. 
They don’t worship these spirits. They’re 
just afraid of ’em. They don’t have any good 
spirits to worship.” 

“How strange!” remarked Harry. 

Shanks was increasing his Eskimo vocabu- 
lary, and A1 and Harry, devoting themselves 


246 The Young Arctic Traders 


to acquiring a working knowledge of the 
language, were soon able to converse fairly 
well and understood when selected words and 
phrases were directed to them. Long resi- 
dence and experience is necessary to grasp 
the Eskimo tongue sufficiently to acquire its 
peculiar idioms, and to take part in a running 
conversation between the people themselves. 
Two Eskimo boys, Emuk and Sookinuk, were 
frequent visitors at the shack, and their asso- 
ciation was of vast assistance to the young 
men in their study. 

One day in October the Eskimo boys came 
smiling into the shack to ask their white 
friends to go fishing with them. Each was 
armed with a spear and each displayed a 
small fish carved from ivory and attached to 
the end of a long thong. 

“How are you going to fish?” asked Al. 

One of the boys, holding the thong in his 
left hand, dangled it up and down and with 
his spear poised in his right hand, his eyes 
centered on the ivory fish. Suddenly the 
spear shot forth, and raising it, he went 
through the motions of removing a fish from 


A Cry in the Night 


247 


its barbed point, laughing heartily at his 
pantomime. 

“Well, by gum!” exclaimed Shanks, who 
had been watching the performance with in- 
terest. “They’re goin’ to spear ’em, but how 
in tarnation they’re goin’ to find any fish to 
spear with everything froze up tighter’n a 
drum beats me, and I’m goin’ to find out.” 

Sookinuk asked Shanks to bring an ax and 
the Eskimo boys led the way back over the 
hills for a mile, when they came upon a frozen 
pond, and proceeded to cut two holes in the 
ice. This required considerable time for the 
ice was already nearly two feet thick. But 
at length water was reached, and imme- 
diately, in high anticipation, the fishing 
began, each at his hole dangling his ivory fish 
in the water, spear poised and ready. 

Suddenly a fish rose in Sookinuk’s hole and 
struck at the ivory lure. The spear darted 
forward and Sookinuk drew forth a big trout 
firmly impaled upon the spear point. 
Laughing heartily he removed it and threw 
it upon the ice, shouting to Emuk that the 
first fish was his. 


248 The Young Arctic Traders 


“Why that’s easier’n fishin’ with a hook 
and line!” exclaimed Shanks, reaching for 
the spear. “Le’ me try it. I can do it.” 

Sookinuk good-naturedly delivered lure 
and spear to Shanks who, highly excited, be- 
gan industriously bobbing the ivory up and 
down. A trout made a lunge at the lure. 
Shanks struck with the spear but he was a 
fraction of a second too late, or his spear did 
not point true, and he drew it back naked. 
He tried again and again, but with no better 
result, to the vast amusement of Sookinuk. 
At length he returned the spear and lure to 
the Eskimo boy, who speared fish after fish 
with precision and certainty. 

“It looks easy, but ’tain’t,” Shanks re- 
marked to A1 and Harry, who had been 
having sport at Shanks’ expense. “It just 
shows what a feller can learn to do by prac- 
tice. These fellers have practiced till they 
do it every time without missin’.” 

“Anyhow,” said Harry, “we’ll have fresh 
trout for a treat.” 

They had brought their guns and, leaving 
the Eskimo boys fishing, tramped away over 


— 1 



The spear darted forward and Sookinuk drew 
forth a big trout 



A Cry in the Night 


249 


the hills in search of ptarmigans. When 
they returned to the fishing holes after a tour 
of the valley the Eskimo boys had two big 
piles of trout on the ice and gave them enough 
to last them for a fortnight. 

As the days passed the sun clung closer and 
closer to the horizon, as though afraid to lift 
its face into the fearful cold that was tighten- 
ing its grip upon the earth. Terrific storms 
swept land and sea. The air was filled with 
clouds of blinding, swirling snow, and little 
hunting was possible. Every day the sun 
sank lower and lower until a time came when 
at midday it barely rose above the southeast- 
ern horizon. 

At noon on the twenty-fifth of October the 
lads gathered with the people for a last 
glimpse of the glowing ball as its upper limb 
appeared for a few moments and then sank 
into the sea not to reappear again for one hun- 
dred and sixteen days. All stood in mournful 
silence for a little, and then, still in silence, 
the Eskimos retreated to the igloos and the 
lads to their shack. 

The gloom thickened. For a time there 


2^0 


The Young Arctic Traders 


was twilight, and at the hour when the sun 
would have marked the hour of noon had it 
still been visible, a rich and wondrous glow 
of brilliant reds and yellows illumined the 
southern sky. 

With the going of the sun the storms ceased 
and the ice-jammed sea lay quiet. Sea ani- 
mals were now seldom seen. A deathlike 
silence fell upon the world. When the wind 
stirred, it moaned and sobbed among the ice- 
clad rocks. The atmosphere seemed charged 
with some unseen terrible power that was 
about to embrace the universe and crush it 
out of existence. 

Gloom and deep depression settled upon the 
people. The Eskimos ceased to laugh, and 
went silently about their tasks or crouched 
brooding by their smoky lamps in the igloos. 
The grim hand of the long night, with its 
ever-present threat of starvation and disaster, 
lay heavily upon them. They seemed always 
about to weep. Their spirits were weighed 
down and crushed by the subtle sadness of the 
stalking spirit of night. Even the dogs were 
affected by the mysterious Presence, and one 


A Cry in the Night 


251 


of them went mad one day and was killed by 
its half-mad master. 

One evening, long after retiring, the lads 
were still lying awake in their sleeping bags, 
when suddenly there broke upon the night a 
shriek of human agony, followed in startling 
and quick succession by another and another. 
They were horrible, appalling shrieks and, 
paralyzed for a moment by the awful terror 
of the screams none spoke or moved. 




CHAPTER XXI 

THE MAN WITH A KNIFE 

T HEY sprang out of their bunks and 
slipping on their clothes hurried out of 
the cabin. Meanwhile the shrieks continued, 
but each successive one came from a greater 
distance. 

For a moment they stood under the stars 
in breathless silence and listened. The night 
was still and bitterly cold. The moon was 
shining and in its weird light the snow 
assumed an uncanny greenish whiteness. 
The air was filled with shimmering rime, 
hanging suspended in space like a veil of 
spun silver, beyond which, white and spec- 
tral, rose the mighty icebergs of Smith 
Sound, looking now like fantastic castles of 
some ghostly land. 

Down from the igloos Eskimos were run- 
ning. Suddenly from seaward came the cry 
again, shrill and penetrating at first, but trail- 
ing into a long pathetic wail that sent a thrill 
252 


The Man with a Knife 


253 


of horror down the young men’s spines. 
Looking in the direction from which the cry 
came they discerned through the frost veil 
and well out upon the ice field, a dark floun- 
dering figure. 

Following the Eskimos, they also ran down 
and over the ice foot 1 and out upon the 
frozen surface of the sea. It was not a long 
chase, for the poor creature was making a 
wavering and uncertain course. When the 
lads overtook the Eskimos they found them 
struggling with Korluk’s kooner who had 
become suddenly afflicted with problokto, a 
temporary madness that sometimes attacks 
the Eskimos directly preceding or during the 
long Arctic night. When the insanity came 
upon Songwe she had rushed from Korluk’s 
igloo screaming, and, as is frequently the 
case, out toward the sea in an effort to throw 
herself into the icy depths. 

Already the madness was leaving her, and 
almost as suddenly as it came it disappeared 
and sanity returned. The superhuman 

1 This is a strip of ice skirting the shore, and formed by the 
rising and falling of the tide. 


254 The Young Arctic Traders 


strength, which she had exerted while the 
frenzy was upon her, deserted her and she 
lay limp and weak in the hands of her 
friends, and was led back willingly to her 
igloo. 

The following morning, when the three 
young men called at Korluk’s igloo to inquire 
after his wife’s health, they found Songwe 
attending to her duties as usual and appar- 
ently in perfect health. No one referred to 
the previous evening’s experience. It had 
come and gone as a matter of course. Before 
the sun should again reappear with its blessed 
light and warmth and health-giving powers 
the lads were to witness problokto insanity 
often enough among their neighbors. 

Sunshine is quite as necessary to the devel- 
opment and health of human life as to plant 
life. Plants will grow white and puny with- 
out it. The human brain will lose its power 
if kept in perpetual shadow. A room from 
which sunshine is always excluded, where the 
sun never purifies the atmosphere with its 
wonderful chemical action, is an unfit place 


The Man with a Knife 


2SS 


in which to live or sleep. Here in our own 
kindlier land we should forever be thankful 
for the broad green fields and never-ending 
sunshine always within our reach to enjoy. 

When at length the true darkness of the 
long night had settled in all its black somber- 
ness upon the Arctic world, and the people 
had grown accustomed to it, the old cheerful 
spirit and light-hearted optimism of the 
Eskimos reasserted itself and the gloom lifted 
from the igloos. Men and women began to 
laugh again as they went about the hard task 
of garnering a living from the frozen sea and 
land. 

The three lads spent much of their time 
watching the men carve dogs and bears and 
other trinkets out of ivory for playthings for 
the little ones; and the women preparing 
skins, and with marvelous dexterity making 
garments and sealskin boots for the hunters. 
Even the children lent assistance in this by 
chewing the edges of the dry skins until they 
were soft and pliable for the mother’s needle. 

With the first indications of a new moon 


256 The Young Arctic Traders 


the men became suddenly active. Dog har- 
ness was brought forth and mended. Sledges 
were repaired and harpoons were put in 
order. Then with the first light of the young 
moon they harnessed their dogs to sledges, 
and, leaving their families in the igloos, were 
off to the hunt, to return again, with sledges 
laden with meat, when the light of the old 
moon waned. 

The Eskimos, ever restless and active, per- 
mitted no opportunity to hunt pass them. 
Whenever moonlight was sufficient, and 
sometimes when there was no moon, they 
were away after walrus and seals. There 
were many mouths to feed, and in this land 
men must not be idle if they would live. 

The Eskimos were preparing for a second 
expedition with the appearance of another 
new moon, and when all was made ready Sip- 
sook and Korluk came down to the shack to 
invite their white friends to accompany them 
upon a hunt to Humboldt Glacier, one hun- 
dred miles to the northward of Annootok. 
Korluk, Alingwah, and Netuah, a young man 
of the settlement, were also to take their teams. 


The Man with a Knife 


257 


“I dunno’s we want to go with ’em, do 
we?” said Shanks, doubtfully. “It’ll be a 
tough trip. The easiest of the Eskimos’ 
huntin’ trips ain’t punkin pie. They never 
sleeps much and they never gets tired. 
Mostly they don’t take time to build a snow 
igloo, and just cuddle up in a snowdrift like 
the dogs, when they wants a snooze. I ain’t 
hankerin’ fer it.” 

“Neither am I,” agreed Al. “I had all I 
wanted of it last winter.” 

“We might go as far as Annootok and stay 
there till they come back,” suggested Harry. 
“We want to go up sometime this winter.” 

“What do you say, Shanks?” asked Al. 
“Shall we go to Annootok? I’m for it.” 

“All right!” grinned Shanks, amiably. 

Sipsook announced that the dogs would be 
harnessed at once, and that the party would 
start as soon as they could make ready. He 
and Korluk volunteered to take the three 
sleeping bags to lash upon the sledges, while 
their friends prepared for the journey. 

“We’d better put on the warmest things 
we’ve got.” suggested Shanks when the 


258 The Young Arctic Traders 


Eskimos, bearing the sleeping bags, had de- 
parted. “It’s fifty below zero, and it ain’t 
goin’ to be any summer picnic party.” 

Each donned fresh woolen underwear, a 
pair of heavy, knit woolen socks, over those 
a pair of heavy woolen duffle socks, and 
finally a pair of hareskin socks, a birdskin 
shirt, bearskin trousers, a reindeer-skin kule- 
tar, sealskin boots, a foxskin cap over which 
they drew the hood of the kuletar , and lastly 
sealskin mittens lined with two pairs of heavy 
duffle mittens. 

When they reached the igloos the dogs 
were already harnessed and, howling and 
straining at their traces, ready for the adven- 
ture. The people of the igloos were gath- 
ered about the sledges to say farewell and 
everyone was laughing and talking. A 1 was 
directed to travel with Sipsook’s sledge, 
Harry with Korluk’s, and Shanks with 
Alingwah’s. The drivers “broke” the 
sledges loose, shouting, “Auk! Auk!” to the 
dogs, and away the four sledges dashed. 

There were fourteen dogs in Sipsook’s 
team, twelve in Korluk’s, and ten in each of 


The Man with a Knife 


259 


the others. After the manner of dogs they 
began the journey in a wild run, with sledges 
swaying from side to side as they passed over 
the uneven ice. Presently, however, they set- 
tled down to a sober trot, while the Eskimo 
drivers, pulling the prow of the sledge one 
way or pushing it another with marvelous 
dexterity, avoided rocks and ice blocks. 
Sometimes on down grades, to retard speed 
they threw their weight \ipon the sledges and 
dug their heels into the ice. At other times, 
when the dogs lagged, they snapped their 
whips over the team, clipping the dogs with 
the end of the cruel lash, while they shouted, 
“Auk! Auk!” to urge them forward. 

The course lay northward upon the surface 
of the ice foot. Sometimes it was a broad 
highway, at others so narrow that the utmost 
skill was required by the drivers to guide the 
sledge and prevent it from sliding into the 
sea, for with a receding tide there is usually 
a gap of open water between the ice pack and 
the ice foot. This was the case now, and the 
swish of the water could be heard beneath 
them and a black chasm was visible reaching 


260 


The Young Arctic Traders 


along the shore in contrast to the white field 
of ice. 

At one point the ice foot was so narrow 
that the sledges were forced to descend to 
the frozen sea. The drivers chose a point 
where the chasm of water was bridged, and 
with a sharp and exciting descent one team 
after another dropped upon the sea ice. A 
little later they came upon an island which 
Harry declared was Littleton Island. 

Sipsook and Alingwah, while the others 
remained with the sledges, mounted the ice 
foot of the island shore, presently to return 
with some hard frozen duck eggs extracted 
from caches made the previous summer. 
Sipsook offered some of them to the lads. 

“Too cold for me,” said Al, declining Sip- 
sook’s hospitality. 

“And too much meat in ’em for me,” 
grinned Shanks. “I’ve seen ’em eat them 
kind of eggs before, and mostly they’re about 
half hatched, with young ducks inside.” 

“Thanks for the hint,” laughed Harry, re- 
turning one he had accepted. 

The Eskimos each placed a whole egg in 


The Man with a Knife 


261 


his capacious mouth. When the warmth of 
the mouth had extracted the frost sufficiently, 
he removed the egg, took off the shell, and 
sucked the dainty morsel much as a child 
would suck candy, and apparently with as 
much relish. 

The luncheon ended, the sledges pushed 
forward again. It was terribly cold. A bit- 
ter, cutting wind blew down upon them from 
the snow-clad land, and turned the breath of 
the travelers into ice. Now and again the 
lads were forced to pick ice from their eye- 
lashes that they might see, and this was 
always a painful operation. 

For a little way the sea ice was clogged by 
pressure ridges, and here everyone pulled 
and hauled and lifted at the sledges to assist 
the dogs, until they again mounted to the ice 
foot, ascending with much labor. For many 
hours they traveled, now on the ice foot, now 
over inland wastes. 

Finally a hill was climbed with stupendous 
effort on the part of dogs and men, and ther v 
descended with hair-raising speed. Then 
suddenly they heard the distant howl of dogs, 


262 


The Young Arctic Traders 


their own teams broke into a run, and a few 
minutes later they came to a halt before the 
old explorer’s shack at Annootok, which they 
had repaired some weeks before. Sipsook, 
laughing good-naturedly, announced that 
now they could rest. 

“Well by gum, I’m ready fer it!” declared 
Shanks. “I don’t know how my feet be, 
they’re so far off to the other end of me, but 
the rest of me’s about froze.” 

“I’m so tired and cold I can hardly move,” 
said Al. 

“And I guess we’re all hungrier’n whales,” 
grinned Shanks. “Let’s get a fire started and 
some coffee and bacon on.” 

“That hits me. That’s the finest thing I’ve 
heard since we left Etah,” broke in Harry 
enthusiastically as the three groped their way 
into the dark shack, and Shanks lighted a 
candle. 

It was quite as cold inside as out-of-doors, 
but in a little while the fire Shanks started 
began to radiate comfort, and huddled close 
to the stove they released the ice of their 
frozen breath from eyebrows and eyelashes. 


The Man with a Knift 


263 


Then, while A1 filled a kettle with ice to melt 
for coffee, Shanks sliced an ample pan of 
bacon. 

“Isn’t this comfortable and fine?” re- 
marked Harry when at length Shanks filled 
their cups with fragrant coffee and they 
gathered around an upturned box to feast 
upon bacon and hardtack. 

“If your maw set this kind of a meal in 
front of you back home I reckon you’d think 
she was treatin’ you rough,” grinned Shanks. 

“You’re right,” laughed Harry. “I’d 
think it wasn’t much back home, but here it 
seems the finest in the world.” 

“It’s the contrast,” said Al. “This is so 
much more comfortable than it is out there 
following the sledge that by comparison it 
seems luxurious. Down home we live in 
luxury all the time, so that anything to appeal 
to us must be superluxurious.” 

“That’s one reason men like it here, I sup- 
pose,” observed Harry. “The contrast comes 
every day. Whenever I go into the shack at 
Etah, after being out for an hour or two in 
the cold, I think it’s about as snug and cozy 


264 The Young Arctic Traders 


and luxurious as anything possibly could be. 
I never felt that way at home when I went 
indoors.” 

“Fellers,” said Shanks. “I never want to 
be so rich that I can have anything I want 
by just goin’ out and buyin’ it when I want 
it. I always want to feel the way I did when 
my paw gave me a new pair of shoes when I 
was a little feller. I’d been wantin’ them 
shoes so bad I was most tickled to death with 
’em, and I took ’em to bed with me the first 
night I had ’em. I’d have took ’em to bed 
after that only I’d worn ’em and maw said 
they’d dirty the sheets, and wouldn’t let me.” 

“You had a lot more enjoyment from your 
pair of new shoes than Harry here ever had 
from anything,” laughed Al. “His mother 
let him have anything he wanted when he 
asked for it, even to an automobile.” 

“I’ll admit it,” grinned Harry. “I never 
got much pleasure out of anything because 
nothing was ever denied me. I wish my 
mother had denied me things, so that I could 
have enjoyed some things as much as you did 
the shoes, Shanks.” 


The Man with a Knift 


265 


“I’m glad my folks wa’n’t rich,” said 
Shanks, “and I never want to be so rich I 
won’t have to work. The signs say I won’t 
be, and I’m kinder superstitious about be- 
lievin’ signs like that.” 

“I hope you’ll always have enough, and 
no more than enough, to make you happy, 
Shanks,” laughed Al. “Do you know, fel- 
lows,” A1 consulted his watch, “we were 
eighteen hours coming up from Etah. No 
wonder we’re hungry as wolves and dead 
tired.” 

“Let’s turn in,” suggested Harry, yawning, 
when the meal was ended, “and I’m for going 
back to Etah the first chance.” 

“Hello!” exclaimed Al, “here comes some- 
body!” 

Two young Eskimos entered the door, and 
greeted them. Both were strangers. With- 
out formality they seated themselves upon 
the edge of a bunk, and one of them asked 
for tea. 

Shanks explained that they had no tea 
brewed and the coffee was gone, and that they 
were tired and were going to sleep, but if 


266 


The Young Arctic Traders 


they would come later, when he and his 
friends had rested, he would brew tea for 
them. Then he gave them some hardtack bis- 
cuits, and dismissed them. 

“Them Eskimo fellers never seem to get 
tired themselves, and they don’t think any- 
body else does,” remarked Shanks, placing 
the candle and some matches near the head 
of his bunk, as was his custom, and slipping 
into his sleeping bag. 

“They didn’t like it when you asked ’em to 
go,” said Harry. “One of them seemed all 
right, but the other looked sullen.” 

“Well I guess they’ll get over it. I’m goin’ 
to douse the glim. You fellers ready?” asked 
Shanks. 

Both were ready, and Shanks put the light 
out, and in a moment all were asleep. 

It was several hours later when Shanks 
awoke with a start, and with the conscious- 
ness that someone was in the room. It was 
intensely dark, and bitterly cold. He rose on 
an elbow and listened, but could hear no 
sound, and presently deciding that the im- 
pression was the result of a dream he turned 


The Man with a Knife 267 

over to sleep again. But he was so wide 
awake, and the impression was so keen, that 
he found it necessary to satisfy himself that 
he was mistaken. 

Sitting up noiselessly and reaching for a 
match, he struck it. As the flame flared up 
and cast a dim radiance over the room, he 
saw the figure of a man with a knife in his 
hand, crouching near the door. 


CHAPTER XXII 

POOTAH, THE COWARD 
°PLYING the match in his right hand 



to the candle wick, Shanks reached 
with his left hand for his rifle, which by force 
of habit he had placed in his bunk, behind 
his sleeping bag. As the candle wick caught 
the fire, Shanks swung the rifle around. 
Resting it upon his lap, with the muzzle 
pointing toward the intruder, he took a long 
look at the figure crouching by the door. 
The man did not move, and for several min- 
utes neither spoke, while Shanks, holding him 
covered by the rifle, eyed him curiously. 

“Well, by hickory! ain’t you goin’ to get 
up so a feller can see your face?” exclaimed 
Shanks at last. “Who be you anyhow?” 

Still the man said nothing, and Shanks, 
realizing that, being an Eskimo, he had not 
understood, repeated the questions in the 
man’s own tongue. 


268 


Pootah , the Coward 


269 


“I came for tea,” answered the stranger, in 
Eskimo, at the same time rising. 

In his upright position the light shone upon 
his face, and Shanks recognized him as the 
sullen one of the two callers who had been 
dismissed. 

“Why did you come while we were asleep 
and with an open knife in your hand?” asked 
Shanks. 

“You have slept long and I brought the 
knife to cut shavings from your wood to 
make a fire that you and your friends might 
be warm when you arose from your beds.” 

“What’s the rumpus?” asked Al, suddenly 
waking and sitting up. 

Shanks explained in English what had 
taken place, adding: 

“What the feller came for was to stick us 
with the knife because he was mad at the way 
I turned him out. Lucky I caught him be- 
fore he had a chance. There ain’t many 
Eskimos like that, but I’ve heard of ’em 
before. I’ll bet he’s a no-good sort of feller.” 

“We’ll have to believe him though,” 
advised Al, consulting his watch. “We’ve 


270 The Young Arctic Traders 


been sleeping nine hours, and we may as well 
get up. Why not let him start the fire for 
us?” 

“Guess that’s sense,” agreed Shanks, and 
addressing the Eskimo he told him to light 
the fire and put over a kettle of ice for tea, 
and they would have breakfast. 

The Eskimo’s sullen manner and resent- 
ment disappeared when he had eaten bacon 
and hardtack and greedily disposed of sev- 
eral cups of hot tea, and when he left the 
shack he was in the best of humor. 

“They’re just children,” observed Al. 
“He’d have done us harm if you hadn’t seen 
him first, Shanks. Now he’s our friend. He 
had a grouch because you denied him tea 
when he was here before.” 

“I’ll bet he’s just what I said, a no-good fel- 
ler,” said Shanks. “Likelier’n not he’s too 
lazy to do much huntin’ and the other Eski- 
mos kinder treat him rough, and he’s soured 
on things.” 

Shanks’ estimate of the Eskimo’s charac- 
ter was correct. Upon inquiry it was found 
that Pootah had the reputation of being a 


Pootah, the Coward 


271 


shiftless and ambitionless creature who 
existed upon the labors and through the kind- 
ness of his neighbors, a type common enough 
among civilized peoples, but rare among 
Eskimos. His neighbors said he was a 
coward, afraid to hunt big game like the rest 
of them. They laughed when his name was 
mentioned and said he was a woman and only 
hunted hares, and birds, and foxes, which 
were harmless creatures. He never had 
killed a bear or walrus or narwhal, they said, 
or done anything worthy a man, or anything 
that called for courage. He was the butt of 
the settlement, and the people teased and tor- 
mented him, and he, on his part, resenting the 
jibes, stubbornly declined to go forth with 
the hunters to try his mettle. 

All this was learned from two old men and 
the women, who with the exception of Poo- 
tah were the only ones remaining about the 
settlement. While the three lads slept, Sip- 
sook and his party, with several others, had 
departed to the northward, and the remainder 
of the Annootok men were taking advantage 
of the growing moonlight to hunt walrus. 


272 The Young Arctic Traders 


The shack at Annootok was not comfort- 
able, and the days spent at the settlement, 
while the lads awaited the return of their 
friends to take them back to Etah, were tedi- 
ous. Pootah came regularly for tea and food, 
sat in silence for a little, and departed. 

“He makes me think of the under dog in a 
pack,” remarked A1 when the Eskimo left 
them after one of these visits. “I feel sorry 
for him.” 

“I reckon he don’t deserve to have anybody 
feel bad over him,” said Shanks. “He’s just 
a plain no-account feller.” 

“He acts to me like someone who had lost 
his spirit and ambition because nobody had 
faith in him,” said Al. “What do you think 
of him, Harry?” 

“Just an ordinary loafer,” answered Harry. 

“It isn’t natural for an Eskimo to be a 
loafer, or to be so quiet and sullen,” insisted 
Al. “I’m going to ask him to go out with 
me, and I’ll treat him as though I had con- 
fidence in him.” 

When Pootah came again, Al talked to 
him and treated him with all the considera- 


Pootah, the Coward 


273 


tion that he would have given the best hunter 
in the country. Pootah responded. Like the 
stray dog that is patted on its head, he liter- 
ally fawned. His changed attitude was 
pathetic. He followed A1 about, and no 
service was too great for him to render his 
new friend. Harry and Shanks were 
touched, and they, too, adopted an attitude 
of greater consideration toward the man, 
though it was plain A1 held the first place 
in his affection. 

A1 and Pootah took many walks together 
in the moonlight of the Arctic night and 
sometimes Harry and Shanks accompanied 
them. Through him they learned much of 
the language and saw a great deal of the sur- 
rounding country, and they found that he 
was, indeed, a keen observer. 

It was on one of these occasions when A1 
and Pootah fell upon an adventure that 
proved Pootah’s friendship and loyalty. The 
moon was beginning to wane, but still shone 
brightly. The two descended the ice foot to 
the sea ice and set forth toward some distant 
icebergs that A1 desired to see at close range. 


274 


The Young Arctic Traders 


Pootah carried a spear, but A1 was un- 
armed, for they had no expectation of meet- 
ing game. They had passed a large iceberg 
and were approaching another when Pootah 
suddenly stopped and whispered : 

“Taokoo! Taokoo! Nannook!” (LookI 
Look! A bear!) 

A1 looked in the direction indicated by 
Pootah, and discovered a great white bear 
between two diminutive icebergs. The bear 
was busily feeding upon the carcass of a 
small seal, and was apparently unconscious 
of the approach of A1 and Pootah. 

“Just stand still,” directed Al, excitedly. 
“I’ll steal around the berg and see how close 
I can get to him before he sees me.” 

“No! No!” protested Pootah. “If you 
startle him while he’s eating, and get close to 
him, he’ll think you have him cornered and 
he’ll fight you.” 

But paying no heed, Al began cautiously to 
stalk the bear, passing around the iceberg 
until he had approached within twenty feet of 
the bear. 

Suddenly the animal lifted its great head, 


Pootah, the Coward 


275 


looked for a moment at A1 in startled fear and 
anger, gave a bellow of rage, and before A1 
could turn and run, charged down upon him. 


CHAPTER XXIII 
THE END OF THE LONG NIGHT 

P OOTAH, silent as a shadow, had fol- 
lowed Al, and was at his side. Con- 
scious of the peril in which Al, in foolhardy 
enthusiasm, was placing himself, he had done 
this that he might stand between his friend 
and any threatened danger from the bear. 

Like a faithful dog that knows no fear 
when its master’s safety is at stake, Pootah 
sprang forward, between Al and the infuri- 
ated beast, at the moment the animal charged. 
With spear raised, he made a lunge and 
caught the bear under the left shoulder. This 
seemed to hold it for a moment and to draw 
its attention from Al to Pootah, and Pootah 
shouted to Al to run. 

But Al did not run. Wholely unarmed 
and unable to lend the Eskimo assistance he 
stood aside and helplessly witnessed the strug- 
gle that followed. 

Pootah, nimble as a panther, leaped from 
276 


The End of the Long Night 277 


side to side to avoid repeated charges of the 
bear. With his spear he made thrust after 
thrust, though he seemed unable to reach a 
vital spot. The bear was sadly wounded and 
the ice was becoming red with its blood. But 
at last there came an opening and the spear 
sank deep into the animal’s side. 

To Al’s horror he heard the spear shaft 
snap. Pootah was unable to escape the bear’s 
onrush, and in an instant was, with bare 
hands, struggling for his life with the animal. 
Then A1 saw the Eskimo draw his long knife, 
and while with his left arm he held the bear 
close to avoid its teeth and claws, he slashed 
at its neck with the knife held in his right 
hand. 

The bear had lost much blood and spent 
its strength. Pootah, clothing torn and flesh 
gashed by the bear’s long claws, but smiling 
triumphantly, arose from the carcass of his 
enemy. He had killed the bear; he had saved 
his friend’s life; and he had proved that he 
was not a coward. 

A 1 was weak with excitement, and he was 
much concerned for Pootah’s wounds. He 


278 The Young Arctic Traders 


urged the Eskimo to hurry back to the shack 
with him that he might bandage them. Poo- 
tah, however, would have none of it. He 
must needs skin the bear at once, and then 
fetch the dogs and sledge to haul his game 
to the settlement and let the people see with 
their own eyes the thing he had done. They 
would no longer taunt him and call him a 
coward. When they saw the bear he had 
killed with a spear and knife and witnessed 
his own wounds, it would never again be said 
that Pootah was a woman. He had shown 
his mettle, and no man could have done 
better. 

“It’s just as I said,” remarked A1 later, 
after Pootah’s wounds had been dressed and 
he had departed from the shack. “They’ve 
laughed at him and called him a woman be- 
cause at some time when he began hunting, 
as a boy perhaps, he may have shown the 
white feather. He lost his self-respect 
through these torments. They made him be- 
lieve he was a coward and could do nothing, 
and he probably was one until today. He’d 
do anything for me. He was willing to die 


The End of the Long Night 


279 


for me because I had shown interest in him. 
He’ll never be a coward again, because he’s 
found himself.” 

“Kind of like a boy I knew back in New 
Bedford,” said Shanks. “His father and 
mother were always tellin’ him he didn’t 
know nothin’, and would amount to nothin’, 
and he got so he believed it.” 

“What happened to him?” asked Harry in- 
terestedly. 

“Nothin’ much,” Shanks yawned. “He got 
a job in one of the factories, and got along 
pretty well, and he got to be a boss, and he 
ain’t any older’n I be. They lived next door 
to us and his paw always thought I was smart 
and his own kid was dumb as beeswax. He’s 
a boss now, and I’m just helpin’ Spuds cook 
and I never bossed anythin’.” 

“You’ll be master of a whaler some day,” 
laughed Al. 

“Nope,” said Shanks gravely. “The best 
I’ll be is maybe a cook. I don’t know enough 
to be a master. I never had enough school 
learnin’ and I ain’t got the gumption. If I 
had the chance to go to school like some folks, 


280 The Young Arctic Traders 


I’d stick to it and wouldn’t be beggin’ my paw 
to let me go to work.” 

Suddenly a great howling of dogs and 
shouting of people startled them. Hurrying 
out, they discovered that the northern hunters 
were arriving, and the women, wild with joy, 
were shouting a welcome. The hunt had 
been successful and the sledges were heavy 
with the meat of bears and reindeer. 

Sipsook, Korluk, and the others from Etah, 
were of the party. They announced to the 
lads, who had run forward to greet them, 
that after a short rest they would push on to 
Etah, that they might take advantage of the 
waning moonlight and the good weather. 

“That’s bully!” exclaimed Harry, as he 
and A1 and Shanks returned to the shack to 
sleep until time to make ready for departure. 
“I’m actually homesick for the little old 
shack and its comforts.” 

In due time Sipsook called them, and with 
the usual hurry and confusion the sleds set 
forth to the southward, and twenty hours 
later they were back again in their little cabin 
at Etah. 


The End of the Long Night 281 


With each return of the moon the hunters 
were away to their favorite hunting grounds. 
Many sledges from Annootok passed south- 
ward at these times and northward again as 
the light of the moon grew dim. They always 
tarried a little at Etah, and the stock of trad- 
ing goods dwindled and a rich store of blue 
and white fox and white bear pelts accumu- 
lated in the cabin. 

Pootah came to Etah with the first sledge 
and settled there. His devotion to A1 had 
not waned, and when he was not away hunt- 
ing walrus and bear he spent much of his 
time in the cabin. After his experience with 
the bear he proved himself one of the best 
and bravest hunters of the tribe, and his 
people soon forgot that they ever had called 
him a woman and a coward. 

During the period of idleness, when there 
was no moon, Pootah devoted all of his leisure 
to learning English. With the remarkable 
memory of the savage, he soon acquired a 
working vocabulary. Though he had diffi- 
culty in pronouncing the English words, it 
was discovered that in an astonishingly short 


282 


The Young Arctic Traders 


time he had come to understand a large part 
of the conversation of his three white friends. 

The lads, growing weary of the monotony 
at Etah, took part in some of the shorter 
hunts. But the hardships were extreme and 
they could not match endurance with the 
Eskimos. They were always glad enough to 
return to their snug quarters and an experi- 
ence or two for each of them was quite enough 
to satisfy their ambition for adventure. 

Days dragged wearily past. Storms swept 
the ice fields and desolate, frozen, snow- 
bound land. The night pinched the minds 
of the enforced dwellers here and the young 
men became petulant and querulous, as men 
will under such conditions. 

At length a faint glow appeared in the 
southeastern sky. Upon its reappearance 
each twenty-four hours it grew steadily and 
rapidly more pronounced. Korluk pointed 
to it one day with delight and exclaimed : 

“Karman! Karman!” (The sun! The 
sun!) 

It was the first noonday hint of the re- 
turning day. Then presently came the full 


The End of the Long Night 283 


twilight. With the middle of February a 
glorious effulgence of red and orange sat for a 
little while each day where the glow had first 
appeared. The sun and the blessed light of 
the long day were at hand! 

In the growing light the young men looked 
strange and unnatural to each other. The 
skin, even of the Eskimos, was of a sickly, 
greenish yellow. The reflection of increasing 
light on the unbroken white dazzled and hurt 
their unaccustomed eyes. 

Now came a day when the sun peeked 
timidly for a few minutes over the horizon. 
For days, A1 and Harry and Shanks had been 
climbing the hill behind the shack to watch 
for him and welcome him, and when they saw 
him they were so overcome for a moment 
with emotion that they could scarcely speak. 
Presently Al, in a strangely choking voice, 
remarked : 

“I feel like one who has been blind for a 
long while, and that sight has suddenly been 
restored to me.” 

“Me too, and it’s kinder as though Fd been 
carrying a big load on my back, and got to 


284 The Young Arctic Traders 


the end of the trail and dropped it,” said 
Shanks blowing his nose suspiciously. 

“It’s bully!” declared Harry. “Sunlight is 
just like air to us. Air and sunshine are the 
finest things the Almighty ever gave the 
world, and everybody takes ’em as though 
they were of no account.” 

“Folks takes most of the good things they 
have for granted, and growl because they 
haven’t got somethin’ else,” observed Shanks 
gravely. 

“Fellows,” suggested Al. “We’ve been as 
grouchy lately as a den of bears, and I’ve been 
the worst one of the bunch. We couldn’t help 
it. Let’s forget it and forgive each other, and 
shake hands on it.” 

“You haven’t been worse than me and 
Harry. It’s been a toss-up which was the 
worst, I reckon,” said Shanks as the three 
shook hands and returned to the shack when 
the sun dropped again below the horizon. 

With the coming twilight a flock of ptarmi- 
gans had appeared, and now a pair of ravens 
soared overhead. The Eskimos became more 
active than ever. There was much laughing 


The End of the Long Night 28$ 

and glee among them. This was the eve of 
their season of plenty. 

Then one day a long train of sledges sud- 
denly appeared from Annootok. They were 
laden with supplies and the hunters had their 
families with them. Annootok was now per- 
manently abandoned for the winter. 

The Annootok Eskimos remained a few 
hours at Etah, while Korluk, Sipsook, Aling- 
wah, and Mukluk prepared to join the south- 
ern migration. The lads considered the 
advisability of going with them and return- 
ing to the ship. But some of the Eskimos 
from Annootok stated that they still had a 
considerable number of fine fox and bear 
pelts at Annootok which they wished to trade, 
and that they would return later for a musk 
ox hunt and fetch them down to Etah. The 
sledges, too, were already heavily laden. The 
addition of the three men with their equip- 
ment would have been an imposition upon 
their willing friends, and it was therefore 
decided that they should remain at Etah until 
the musk ox hunters returned. 

“We’ve got to get them skins they left 


286 The Young Arctic Traders 


at Annootok anyhow,” declared Shanks. 
“Liker’n not we’d never get ’em if we left 
here now.” 

“That’s what I say,” agreed Al. “We’d 
have to stay here for ’em even if they had 
room for us on the komatiks (sledges).” 

“We’ll have a corking good time with day- 
light coming,” said Harry cheerfully. “We’ll 
be able to get in some good hunts and catch 
a lot more foxes in the traps.” 

“Matuk, Sipsook, and Etookluk say they’re 
going as far south as Westenholm Sound,” 
suggested Al. “The fox and bearskins we’ve 
traded in and the foxskins we’ve trapped our- 
selves won’t crowd their sledges much if we 
divide ’em amongst the three. Why not send 
’em down to the ship?” 

“A bully idea!” exclaimed Harry. “And 
we can write Captain Mugford a letter. He’ll 
be glad to hear from us.” 

“And he’ll be tickled to death to get the 
fur,” said Shanks. “We’ve got a fine bunch 
of it and we can tell him in the letter there’s 
more cornin’. Let’s see if they’ll take it.” 

The Eskimos willingly undertook the mis- 


The End of the Long Night 287 

sion when it was proposed to them. They 
were, indeed, pleased with the opportunity to 
render the service. And so, when the sledges 
drove away, they carried with them not only 
a letter to Captain Mugford, but the product 
of the winter trade and individual hunt of 
the lads, and as the last sledges disappeared 
from view A 1 remarked: 

“I don’t know just why, but I’m relieved 
to have those furs on the way to the ship.” 

“They’re worth a pretty big lot of cash,” 
suggested Shanks. “Maybe that’s why.” 

“Anyhow I feel better that they’re gone,” 
said Al. 


CHAPTER XXIV 

THE CAVE MEN 

“XTOW I’m for waitin’,” said Levine. 

jL^J “That’s my way, and I says it square 
and open. If we goes and takes them there 
furs and things before the water’s open for 
launchin’ the boat we gets in trouble. That’s 
what I says, mates.” 

The three outlaws were huddled around a 
stone lamp in the igloo which had sheltered 
them during the winter. Their beards were 
long and bushy, their tangled, matted hair 
hung to the shoulders, they wore birdskin 
shirts, the flesh or tanned side out, bearskin 
trousers, and sealskin boots, and there was no 
visible evidence that water had been utilized 
to cleanse their persons since the day they 
left the ship. The stone lamp cast a smoky, 
gloomy glow over the interior of the igloo, 
which was as unkempt and savage in appear- 
ance as its occupants. The three men looked 
like cave men of some far prehistoric period, 
288 


The Cave Men 


289 


and the igloo was their cave, austere and 
grim, wholly void of any suggestion of civili- 
zation and its softening influence. 

The chastisement of the long winter of iso- 
lation had not served to modify in any degree, 
but rather had intensified, their hatred of the 
master and crew of the Sea Lion. With the 
long winter night their determination for re- 
venge had crystallized. They were now plan- 
ning definitely their proposed attack upon the 
Stowaways and Shanks at Etah, and how best 
to rob them of the furs and ivory which they 
had accumulated in their winter’s trade. 

The sledges from Annootok and Etah had 
that day passed southward, and from the 
Eskimos the three men had learned that the 
only natives remaining at Etah were Apuk, 
Chevik, and Pootah, and that Annootok was 
wholly abandoned. Inkovitch, more savage 
than ever, and impatient for action, was urg- 
ing an immediate attack on Etah, little 
dreaming that the great bulk of plunder they 
hoped to secure was already well on its way 
to the ship, and had that yery day passed in 
front of their igloo within reach of his hand. 


290 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“Waitin’ ain’t safe,” Inkovitch growled. 
“Those three Eskimos that are up there now 
will soon be here. We’ve got to make up our 
minds what to do before they come. I’m for 
holdin’ ’em up, and makin’ ’em take us back 
with their dogs and sledges.” 

“I says no,” objected Levine. “That’s what 
I says. If we does that and lets ’em go they’ll 
just go and blab to the others when they comes 
south, and we’ll be in trouble. I says what I 
thinks. That’s me, and that’s what I says.” 

“They needn’t come back,” explained In- 
kovitch. “When we’re through with ’em we 
can shoot ’em, can’t we? That’ll keep ’em 
from meddlin’. They won’t come back to 
squeal. When they’re done for there won’t 
be any Eskimos north of here, and we’ll have 
our own way with those Stowaways and 
Shanks. There’s plenty of room under the ice 
for them.” 

“ ’Twon’t work, says I,” objected Levine. 
“See here, now. This is what I says, mates, 
and I knows what I says is right. When them 
there Eskimos that’s up at Etah comes south 
so we can get ’em they’ll have their famblies 


The Cave Men 


291 


with ’em and when they goes north again to 
take us they leaves their famblies here. When 
they don’t come back right off their famblies 
gets word to other Eskimos and then we has 
the hull tribe after us up at Etah, and they’ll 
get us. There’s too many of ’em for us to 
stand off, and we’re done for. That’s what 
I says.” 

“We can get away and hide before any 
more Eskimos come north to bother us,” 
snapped Inkovitch. “You’re just scared, 
Levine.” 

“No, mate, you’re wrong now. I ain’t 
scared and you knows I ain’t scared,” pro- 
tested Levine. “I says it to your face like I 
always does. I says what I thinks. I’m 
always straight and aboveboard. I’m honest, 
I be. There ain’t no honester man than I 
be, and you knows it, Inkovitch. Now ain’t 
I?” 

Inkovitch did not deign to reply. 

“Yes I be. I’m straight. That’s me,” con- 
tinued Levine. “Now what I says is this, and 
V I sticks to it. If we goes up before all these 
Eskimo fellers goes up to hunt musk ox what 


292 The Young Arctic Traders 

said they was goin’ we’ll be in trouble, and 
I don’t believe in gettin’ in trouble when 
there’s no need of gettin’ in it. That’s me, 
do what I has to do right, and keep out of 
trouble when gettin’ in trouble ain’t called 
for. That’s what I says. There’ll be no 
gettin’ away and hidin’ till the ice goes out 
and we sails away in the boat the ship left at 
Etah. The ice won’t go out before the Eski- 
mos goes after musk ox, and we can’t sail the 
boat on ice. Leastways I never could.” 

“Vat half you to say apout vat we shall do 
alreaty then?” asked Marx, who had been 
silently listening to the argument. 

“I says wait till after the Eskimos goes up 
musk ox huntin’,” Levine shifted his quid 
from the left to the right cheek. “That’s what 
I says, mates. Them there Stowaways ain’t 
goin’ to leave Etah till them fellers huntin’ 
musk ox comes back. That’s what the Eski- 
mos tells us today. We’ll get a passage to 
Etah with the last of ’em. There’s always 
one or two stragglers cornin’ up after the rest 
is gone. We’ll make ’em give us a berth on 
their sledges. Then just before we gets to 


The Cave Men 


293 


Etah we’ll make ’em turn back. If they don’t 
do it, we’ll lay ’em away and let the foxes 
eat ’em.” 

Inkovitch grunted contemptuously. 

“Then we goes in,” continued Levine, 
ignoring Inkovitch, “and boards the shack, 
and the furs and grub that’s there is our’n. 
That’s what I says. That’s my way of doin’ 
it safe and easy. I tells you square and above- 
board. I’m right out with what I thinks. 
That’s me.” 

“What will the Eskimos do about it when 
they get back from the musk ox huntin’?” 
asked Inkovitch with a snarl. “Won’t we be 
as bad off as we would be to go now?” 

“No we won’t, mate,” Levine spat copi- 
ously. “We’ll tell ’em the Stowaways and 
Shanks has come south and we’re up there 
lookin’ after things till the ship comes and 
gets us. They won’t know they ain’t south 
till they gets here. By then we’re off in the 
boat safe and snug. The ice’ll be gone then 
and we’re as free as the birds. That’s what 
I says. That’s the course I lays. Steer it 
straight, says I.” 


294 The Young Arctic Traders 

“Und I vill haff my knife in those Stow- 
aways und that Shanks alreaty,” exclaimed 
Marx with venom. 

“Sure!” agreed Levine. “Stick ’em all you 
wants to. Cut ’em up if you wants to and 
feed ’em to the seals, if seals eats that kind. 
Even things up with ’em, that’s what I says. 
I’m for fair and square dealin’, I am. Them 
fellers wa’n’t square with us. They goes and 
takes our guns and searches our chests when 
we ain’t there. That wa’n’t square and open. 
If I has my gun they takes out’n my chest 
when we has the scrap on the ship, and you 
has the gun they takes out’n your’n, mate, 
we’d sure licked ’em. We’d sure knocked 
them there officers over first shot. It makes 
me mad clean through when I thinks on’t. 
We’d be havin’ a fine time now with the ship 
and cargo our’n and the crew overboard. 
’Twa’n’t square of them Stowaways and 
Shanks, and what ain’t square ain’t right. I 
can’t stand crooked work, I can’t. That ain’t 
me. It makes me mad from jib to rudder the 
way they treats us. Use your knife, mate. 
Stick ’em like pigs. That’s what I says. 


i he L^ave Men 


295 

That’s man’s talk, that is. I’m square, I be. 
I ups and says what I thinks.” 

“It ees right as you say to vait, Levine, und 
dake no chances alreaty,” agreed Marx. 

“Now what do you say, mate?” Levine 
turned to Inkovitch. “You hears what I says 
and the course I lays, and Marx says like 1 
says that it’s right. What do you say, now?” 

“You and Marx have got it fixed up. There 
ain’t anything for me to say,” growled Inko- 
vitch, adding reluctantly, “Your plan sounds 
good anyhow. We’ll try it.” 

“That’s the talk, mate! That’s fair and 
square!” Levine spat. “It’ll be like runnin’ 
before the wind. No tackin’, just straight 
sailin’. We gets to Etah and we goes in and 
them there three fellers that played us 
crooked goes out. Plenty of room in the sea 
for them. 

“They has a fine lot of fur, and grub 
enough to hold us over till we gets more. We 
takes the boat that’s there and sails for Baffin 
Land. We picks up a British trader and tells 
her our ship’s lost. They gives us a berth 
aboard, and we gets to the other side safe and 


296 The Young Arctic Traders 


sound. That’s the course laid down on the 
chart, mates. No Sea Lion for us, mates. 
That’s what I says, what says you?” 

“It sounds all right,” agreed Inkovitch in 
a little better humor. 

“It vill pe all right,” declared Marx with 
some show of eagerness. 

“So says we all, mates,” said Levine. 
“Straight and square, that’s me. Treat every- 
body straight and square and take the ups and 
down when they comes, fair and foul weather 
alike. The course we’ve charted takes us from 
the downs to the ups. That’s what I says, 
mates.” 


CHAPTER XXV 

THE ATTACK 

I T WAS lonely when the sledges disap- 
peared beyond the hills, for only Apuk, 
Chevik, and Pootah remained at Etah, and 
they, too, were presently to go. 

Every day that the weather permitted, the 
lads tramped back over the country hunting 
and setting fox traps. Their method of trap- 
ping was simple. A square of snow was cut 
and carefully lifted at the place where a trap 
was to be set. Into the hole a steel trap was 
placed. The square of snow that had been 
removed was shaved down until a half-inch 
thick, and the thin crust laid over the trap to 
conceal it. A trench was made in which the 
chain was covered with snow, after the end 
of the chain had been hooked around a bowl- 
der to secure it. When all was ready, and 
the trap and chain cleverly covered, small 
pieces of more or less decayed meat were 
strewn over and around the trap to serve as 
bait. 


297 


298 The Young Arctic Traders 


Each day they visited their traps and usu- 
ally were rewarded with two or three blue or 
white foxes. In going the rounds of the traps 
they carried their guns, and seldom returned 
without ptarmigans or hares for their larder, 
which they much preferred to the strong- 
flavored seal and walrus meat of the Eskimos. 

Thus days that otherwise would have been 
lonely and restless were filled with interest. 
The evenings were spent with their friends 
in the igloos, who were preparing to depart 
at once to join their friends in the south. On 
one of these visits, when Harry and A1 were 
in Chevik’s igloo, they observed Pokaluka, 
Chevik’s kooner , cutting into small pieces 
choice portions of reindeer and walrus meat, 
and laying the pieces carefully aside. 

“What are you doing that for?” Harry 
asked inquisitively. 

Pokaluka burst into tears, and between her 
sobs explained that the meat was for her 
mother, who had died the year before and 
was buried not far from there, and she asked 
the two young men if they would go with her 
the next morning to visit the burial place. 


The Attack 


299 


It was starlight when she led them in early 
morning out upon the rocks to the burial 
place upon a mountain-side a half mile from 
the camp. After the fashion of Eskimos, the 
bodies in this old burial ground lay out upon 
the naked rocks, and over each body was built 
a mound of bowlders. There were many 
mounds of bowlders here, the adults lying 
with head to the East, feet to the West, the 
children with head to the North and feet to 
the South. 

Pokaluka led Harry and A1 to one of the 
graves. Here, beneath the bowlders, she said, 
her mother slept. She placed them at the 
foot, or western end of the oblong mound of 
bowlders, and directed them to stand there. 
Then with bared hands and bared head, she 
took a half-kneeling position at the eastern 
end or foot of the mound and began to relate 
recent events — stories of the hunts — of the 
reindeer, bear, and walrus killed — of the 
coming of the white men. When the history 
was finished, with tears rolling down her 
cheeks, she removed the snow with naked 
hands from the bowlders near where she knelt 


300 The Young Arctic Traders 


at the head, and when the bowlders were 
bared she placed between them the small 
choice pieces of meat which she had prepared 
the previous evening and had brought with 
her, talking and sobbing all the while. Then 
for a little she knelt in silence. 

Rising presently Pokaluka made several 
passes with her hands over the head of the 
grave, and then, weeping and weirdly chant- 
ing, she walked four times around the grave, 
lifting her feet each time and carefully brush- 
ing the snow from them and cautiously step- 
ping in exactly the tracks she had made in her 
first circuit. 

At the end of the fourth turn around the 
grave she grasped Harry and A 1 each by an 
arm, and told them the story of her mother’s 
death' in the igloo, of the burial, and that no 
one had ever lived in the igloo since, because 
it was haunted by the evil spirit that had 
caused her mother’s death. She pointed to a 
bright star in the sky, which she said was her 
mother’s spirit. Other stars, she explained, 
were the spirits of other Eskimos that had 
died, and the innumerable other stars the 


The 'Attack 


301 


spirits of a vast multitude who had died in 
the far land from which her white friends 
had come. 

Dawn was breaking as they turned from 
the desolate burial place toward the camp. 
The young men were deeply impressed by 
what they had seen. They had been priv- 
ileged to look into the heart of these primi- 
tive children of the wilderness, and there 
they had discovered the same emotions, the 
same depths of love and sorrow that grip and 
sway the people of civilized lands. 

That day the three families of Eskimos left 
for the South to join those who had gone 
before in the walrus hunt, and when they 
were gone and the igloos deserted, Etah be- 
came silent and lonely indeed for the three 
lads. Dark, smiling faces no longer looked 
in upon them in the shack, and the chorus of 
howling dogs no longer disturbed the night. 

With the return of day the temperature 
dropped lower than it had at any time during 
the season of darkness, and since the depar- 
ture of the Eskimos prolonged storms had 
often forbade hunting or out-of-door exercise. 


302 


The Young Arctic Traders 


But late in April came a season of calm and 
milder days, and on the evening of one of 
these pleasant days, after they had eaten and 
discussed, as they often did now, their return 
to the ship and home, they were startled by 
a chorus of howling dogs. Out-of-doors they 
rushed and to their delight found Matuk and 
Sipsook, just arrived from the South. 

It was a jolly meeting, and when the Eski- 
mos had cared for their dogs they joined their 
white friends in the shack where Shanks had 
a piping hot meal ready for them in a jiffy. 

After they had eaten, Sipsook, with vast 
deliberation and importance, drew forth a 
package which he delivered to Al. It proved 
to contain a letter from Captain Mugford, 
as well as one from the Sky Pilot and Joshua, 
and one addressed to Shanks in Spuds’ 
cramped handwriting. 

Captain Mugford wrote that the Eskimos 
had delivered the furs in excellent condition 
and expressed vast satisfaction with the re- 
sult of the efforts of the boys both as traders 
and as trappers. The Sky Pilot and Joshua 
gave some news of the winter aboard ship. 


The Attack 


303 


When they had finished with the other let- 
ters Shanks opened the letter from Spuds, and 
read: 

dere frend, i am neading you bad. i am hard 
finding a way to make out having you gone it is 
to much to do for me all the wile alone, how be 
alfred and hennery, wen you and them come back 
peter i will make sum doughnuts for them and 
you. yors trully Mr. Adolphus P. Spuddington 

p.s. it is worse than my ansesters wus of they 
had company on the May flour. 

“Spuds certainly misses you,” laughed Al. 
“He never would have made the effort to 
write a letter if he didn’t.” 

“He always does when I’m away,” grinned 
Shanks. 

“He appears to miss us all,” said Harry. 
“Notice that rash promise about doughnuts?” 

“He’ll go back on that, I reckon, unless we 
have him make ’em the first day we show up 
on the ship,” predicted Shanks. “I’m tickled 
clean through to hear from the ship and how 
they made out.” 

“Best of all,” said Al, “Captain Mugford 


304 The Young Arctic Traders 


received the fur and he’s pleased with the 
trade.” 

Then they asked the Eskimos many ques- 
tions concerning the three men at Inglefield 
Gulf, but could learn no more than that they 
were still there. 

The following day, Kuglutook, Korluk, 
Chevik, and Mukluk arrived with their 
sledges, remained a few hours and followed 
Sipsook and Matuk northward to the musk 
ox hunt, with the promise to return at the end 
of a fortnight and to fetch the furs from An- 
nootok. Kuglutook, Sipsook, and Matuk 
were then to take the three young men and 
their belongings to the ship. 

“That means homeward bound !” ex- 
claimed A1 when the last komatik had disap- 
peared. “Two weeks and we’ll be on our 
way to the ship! Three months more and 
we’ll be home! Home! Won’t it be great to 
see the folks! 

“Think of it! And back in God’s country 
where the grass is green and there are trees 
and flowers! But home — and to be with 
father and mother again! That’s best of all!” 


The Attack 


305 


Harry grabbed A1 around the waist and 
began cantering around and singing: 

Sing tura-la-lala-lu, lads, 

Sing tura-la-lala-lee; 

To the wave for you and me, lads, 

To the wave for you and me. 

Sing tura-la-lala-lu, lads, 

Sing tura-la-lala-lee; 

We’re off on the bounding sea, lads, 
We’re off on the bounding sea. 

Sing tura-la-lala-lu, lads, 

Sing tura-la-lala-lo ; 

We’ll bid adieu to the floe, lads, 

We’ll bid adieu to the floe. 

Sing tura-la-lala-lu, lads, 

Sing tura-la-lala-lee; 

Sing out to the good old sea, lads, 

Sing out to the good old sea. 

At the very beginning Shanks came into 
the circle and bellowing the song with A1 and 
Harry, the three danced with the ecstasy of 
children. Then, laughing, they turned to the 
shack to begin at once preparations for the 


306 The Young Arctic Traders 


coming of their Eskimo friends and depar- 
ture for the ship and home. 

Talking happily of the great event, they 
had reached the entrance of the shack when 
suddenly a rifle shot rang out, and A1 stag- 
gered and fell forward. 


CHAPTER XXVI 

THE GUN FIGHT 

S HANKS, who was in the rear, sprang 
forward, yelling as he did so: 

“Grab A1 and pull him in!” 

Harry had stopped, half-dazed, when A1 
fell. Now, in sudden realization of what had 
happened, he seized A1 and with the assist- 
ance of Shanks dragged him into the porch. 
Bullets spat against the doorway and chipped 
ice at their feet, but they succeeded in draw- 
ing A1 through the porch and into the inner 
room of the shack. 

Harry jumped to the window and dropped 
over the glass a heavy outside shutter that had 
been made as an added protection to the room 
during severe storms. Then he and Shanks, 
seizing their rifles, threw themselves prone 
upon the floor in the doorway looking out 
through the porch. 

“You ’tend to Al,” directed Shanks. “I can 
307 


308 The Young Arctic Traders 


hold ’em off. It’s light outside and they can’t 
see us here in the dark.” 

A1 was sitting upon the floor when Harry 
arose, and Harry assisted him to his bunk. 

‘‘That was like a mule kick,” said Al, still 
dazed. “Where am I hit, Harry?” 

“Let’s take off your kuletar and see.” 
Harry’s hands trembled as he proceeded to 
draw Al’s kuletar over his head. 

“Ouch!” exclaimed Al. “It’s my shoulder. 
Be careful, Harry.” 

With the removal of the kuletar , blood was 
found to be oozing from a wound opposite 
and just under the armpit. Harry hastily 
cleansed it and with the assistance of an emer- 
gency medical kit with which they were pro- 
vided, dressed it with a folded piece of gauze 
held in position by strips of adhesive plaster. 

“Now you lie down and keep quiet, Al,” 
he directed. “If you go moving around that 
wound’ll get bleeding again and get in- 
flamed.” 

“Yes, you stay where you be,” seconded 
Shanks from his prone position on the floor. 
“I’ve got them fellers covered. They’re up 


The Gun Fight 


309 


behind the rocks in front of Sipsook’s old 
igloo.” 

“If I can help, let me know and I’ll be with 
you. Even if my left shoulder is hit, I can 
shoot with my right hand,” offered A1 gamely. 

Bang! went Shanks’ rifle. 

“Did you hit him?” asked Harry excited- 
ly, seizing his rifle and stooping at Shanks’ 
side. 

“I dunno,” Shanks threw another cartridge 
into the chamber, “I didn’t see much of him. 
They can’t get down here anyhow. Every 
time one of ’em shows himself we’ll plug at 
’em.” 

“Who was it? Could you make out?” asked 
Harry. 

“Inkovitch,” said Shanks. “It’s them 
three pirates.” 

“Where are they?” asked Harry. 

“Behind them two big rocks just in front 
of Sipsook’s igloo,” explained Shanks. 
“Them rocks gives ’em cover so they can get 
inside the igloo, but they can’t get away from 
there unless we see ’em, and I reckon they 
know it.” 


3io 


The Young Arctic Traders 


“They’ll steal down here tonight!” sug- 
gested Harry. 

“Nope, it’ll be bright moonlight and we’ll 
spot ’em on the white snow,” said Shanks. 
“One of us’ll have to keep on watch all the 
time and shoot at anything that moves. But 
they’ve got us covered, too. It’s dark in here 
with the winder blind shut and they can’t see 
where we be, but if we open the blind it’ll 
make it light enough for ’em to see us. We’ve 
got to keep that shut. We can’t go outside 
either, or they’ll pick us off.” 

At that moment a shot rang out from the 
hill, and a bullet hit the floor directly in front 
of Shanks’ face. Shanks dodged, and ex- 
claimed : 

“Doggone ’em,, they know we’re here, and 
they’re takin’ a chance at pottin’ us.” 

A man peeked cautiously around the e;dge 
of one of the rocks, and Harry and Shanks 
fired simultaneously. Both bullets hit the 
ice-covered rock close to the spot and sent a 
shower of splintered ice flying over it. 

“That’ll show ’em we’re watchin’ ’em!” 
explained Shanks. 


The Gun Fight 


111 

“I’m going to throw some bags of coal in 
front of us,” suggested Harry. “We can pile 
’em up so as to have loopholes between the 
bags to fire through, and the coal will stop 
their bullets.” 

“That’s fine,” said Shanks. “I never 
thought of it. The coal’ll stop their little 
forty-fours.” 

Accordingly Harry slipped out into the en- 
closed porch. Out of range of the doorway 
he lifted down four or five bags of coal and 
formed them into a barricade between the 
outer doorway of the porch and the inner 
doorway of the shack. Several shots were 
fired while he was at work, and some of them 
hit the coal bags, but neither he nor Shanks 
was injured. 

Shanks, in the meantime, kept up an irreg- 
ular fire, whenever a movement was observed 
on the hill above. As Harry joined him he 
exclaimed : 

“I got that feller! I hit one of ’em!” 

“Where’d you hit him?” asked Harry ex- 
citedly. 

“I guess I got his hand when he held his 


312 The Young Arctic Traders 

rifle to shoot! Leastways he dropped the 
gun!” said Shanks. 

Shooting back and forth had continued for 
nearly two hours, when there came quiet on 
the hill and presently a hail from the rocks. 

“Ahoy, mates!” 

“Ahoy, yourself!” shouted Shanks. 

“That’s Levine. I wonder what he wants?” 
said Harry excitedly. 

“What’s the use of us fellers quarrelin’? 
That’s what I says,” came from Levine. 

“You fellers started it!” answered Shanks. 

“See here now, mates,” called Levine. “We 
just comes over for a cruise and to make you 
fellers a friendly visit. We wa’n’t aimin’ for 
anything but a sociable time and here you 
ups and shoots at us every time we moves. 
That ain’t a fair way to treat old shipmates 
and friends, now. That’s what I says.” 

“You started the shooting,” shouted Harry. 

“We shoots, but ’tweren’t to hurt nobody,” 
explained Levine in a persuasive and injured 
tone. “ ’Twere just to let you fellers know 
we was here. We just shoots to kind of sur- 
prise you, and for fun. And here you goes 


The Gun Fight 


313 


shootin’ to hurt us and keeps us hidin’ up 
here instead of bein’ sociable-like, and in- 
vitin’ us down. That’s downright mean now, 
that’s what I says. I’m fair and square, I 
am. I tells a feller to his face when I thinks 
he does wrong, I does. That’s me, rough and 
ready and plain talkin’. Stick by your 
friends, says I.” 

“Maybe so,” answered Shanks, “but we 
ain’t takin’ chances, and you ain’t shipmates 
of ours any more, Levine.” 

“Now you makes me feel bad,” said 
Levine, “me as was always your friend, 
Shanks, and the friend of the Stowaways. I 
likes the Stowaways, I does. I’m a friend to 
’em, and I don’t go back on’t. I ain’t no fair 
weather friend, I ain’t. Fair or foul weather, 
I sticks. That’s me. Fair and square, 
through ups and downs and take ’em with 
your friends, says I. Let’s quit our quarrelin’ 
and make up on’t. That’s what I says. You 
fellers leave your guns in your shack and 
come up and meet us halfway, and shake 
hands on’t.” 

“You fellers leave your guns and come 


314 The Young Arctic Traders 


down with your hands stickin’ in the air, and 
we’ll use you all right,” answered Shanks. 

“That ain’t a fair way, says I. That ain’t 
showin’ you trusts us,” Levine’s voice re- 
flected sorrow. “Here I makes a fair and 
square offer to you, and you treats us this way. 
That ain’t a fair way of treatin’ friends, says 
I.” 

“All right, but we ain’t goin’ to take 
chances with you,” Shanks replied. 

That ended the parley and the shooting was 
resumed, whenever an opening seemed to 
offer. 

That day passed, and that night, and the 
next day, Shanks and Harry relieving each 
other as guards. The one bucket of water in 
the cabin when the siege began was exhausted 
and they had not dared to stir outside to get 
ice to melt, for every movement brought a 
fusillade of shots from the rocks. It was evi- 
dent the pirates were awaiting the darkness 
of the waning moon or the coming of a storm 
to rush the cabin and close the matter at short 
range when guns could not be used. 

“The moon’s goin’ to come up a little late 


The Gun Fight 


315 


tonight,” suggested Shanks on the third eve- 
ning. ‘Til sneak out before she gets up and 
get ice. We’ve got to have water, and Al’s 
got to have that shoulder of his’n kept 
washed.” 

“Let me go,” said Harry. “I’ll get the ice 
and they’ll never see me.” 

“Nope,” Shanks objected positively. “I 
thought of it first and it’s my job.” 

“My shoulder’s all right,” said Al. “Don’t 
you fellows take any chance.” 

“We’ve got to have water,” insisted Shanks. 
“My tongue’s hangin’ out like a hound dog’s 
in summer.” 

Accordingly, when the twilight faded and 
the stars came out, Shanks, with the bucket 
slipped around the barricade of coal and, 
crawling cautiously, passed out of the porch 
door. 

A moment later a fusillade of rifle shots 
came from the hill. Harry and Al held their 
breath in apprehension. The pirates had 
seen Shanks and were shooting at him. 

Suddenly from the distance came the howl 
of many dogs. The shooting ceased. Harry, 


3 16 The Young Arctic Traders 


with his rifle in his hand, rushed out, and Al, 
who had been sitting on the edge of his bunk, 
followed. 


CHAPTER XXVII 

THE END OF THE CRUISE 
HE trail from the south led down over 



A a hill. In the starlight, moving over 
the white snow, Harry and A1 saw the sledges 
descending the slope with the dogs on a run. 

“Six of ’em,” said Shanks’ voice, and to 
their vast relief Shanks came around the cor- 
ner of the shack. 

“Oh, they didn’t hit you, Shanks!” ex- 
claimed A1 joyfully. “We were frightened! 
We were afraid they hit you!” 

“Nope. They spotted me just as I slipped 
behind the shack and they let loose to beat 
the band, but I got under cover,” Shanks ex- 
plained. “They’ve like’s not run to hide now. 
I reckon they spotted the dogs cornin’ over 
the hill before we heard ’em. I wonder what 
huskies they be and what brought ’em.” 

They had not long to wait. The first 
komatik came directly to the shack, and as 
Pootah, who was the driver, sprang off, 


3 1 8 The Young Arctic Traders 


swinging his long whip to quiet the team, Mr. 
Dugmore slipped off of the rear. 

“Are you all right?” he greeted. “I ex- 
pected you would all be killed. I was sure 
you would be killed. We came as soon as we 
heard Inkovitch and his gang had come 
north.” 

The three lads could scarcely speak from 
joy as they took Mr. Dugmore’s hand, and 
they were quite overwhelmed a moment later 
when the Sky Pilot arrived on the next sledge, 
then big Bill Comfort on the next, and 
finally Joshua Tidd. 

“Well, by hickory!” exclaimed Daddy. 
“Here you be, lookin’ as natural as folks said 
my grandmother did when she was laid out 
in her coffin, but a doggoned sight liver.” 

The three pirates surrendered at once and 
were placed in an igloo with two Eskimos 
to guard them. Marx, it was discovered, had 
a finger shot from his left hand and Inko- 
_ vitch a wound in a leg. Levine alone had 
escaped the marksmanship of Shanks and 
Harry. 

Shanks proceeded at once to prepare a hot 


The End of the Cruise 


3*9 


meal for the rescue party and while the hun- 
gry men ate, Mr. Dugmore explained that 
Pootah, in a highly excited condition, had 
come to the ship, and stated that the three 
pirates had compelled another Eskimo to take 
them north. Pootah and this Eskimo were 
the only ones remaining with the three mu- 
tineers and Pootah had overheard them plan- 
ning an attack on Etah. While with his 
limited knowledge of English he had not 
fully understood, he had grasped enough of 
the conversation to have no doubt it was their 
aim to surprise and kill the three lads, then 
rob the shack and kill any Eskimos that might 
interfere. 

Pootah gathered from the conversation 
that they were to compel himself and the 
other Eskimos to take them to Etah with 
dogs. His first thought was to hurry away 
in advance to Etah and give warning and as- 
sistance. He told the other Eskimo what he 
had heard and his own plans. The Eskimo 
was thoroughly frightened and declined to go 
with Pootah, declaring the men were watch- 
ing them and would kill them. 


320 The Young Arctic Traders 


Pootah determined to go alone and har- 
nessed his team. As he was about to start, 
the tallest man of the three, evidently Levine, 
who could speak Eskimo well asked where 
he was going. He replied that he was going 
for a load of meat. Levine told him he must 
not go at that time for he and the other Eski- 
mo were to leave with him and his two com- 
panions the following morning for Etah. He 
also casually remarked that he or one of the 
others would be on guard and would shoot 
if Pootah attempted disobedience. 

Pootah’s igloo was a little way to the south- 
ward of that occupied by the pirates. The 
only trail for dogs and sledge that led to Etah 
passed directly in front of their igloo, and any 
attempt to take this trail would certainly be 
observed. Therefore Pootah decided to re- 
cruit Eskimos that he believed were hunting 
walrus fifty miles to the southward. 

When all was quiet and the three pirates 
inside their igloo, Pootah, with the utmost 
caution, caught his dogs, and as each dog was 
captured bound its nose to prevent its howl- 
ing and arousing suspicion. Then he har- 


The End of the Cruise 


321 


nessed them and when he was ready to leave 
unbound their noses. 

This was unfortunate, for immediately 
their noses were unbound, they began howl- 
ing. The pirates took the alarm, and as Poo- 
tah broke his sledge loose the three despera- 
dos rushed out of their igloo and began firing 
at Pootah’s retreating sledge. One of the 
dogs was hit by a bullet. Pootah cut it loose, 
and ignoring the fusillade continued on his 
way at top speed. 

Only women were at the hunting place, 
and they told Pootah the men had gone to 
the ship. Pausing at short periods when it 
was necessary to rest the dogs, he pushed 
southward to the ship and gave the alarm. 

Fortunately there were dogs and drivers 
enough to be had. The party was quickly 
organized and, traveling with as light sledges 
as possible, they hurried to the relief of Etah. 
They had met the driver returning after leav- 
ing the pirates a mile south of Etah, and he 
had turned about and joined the party. 

The Sky Pilot and Mr. Dugmore probed 
Al’s shoulder and found the bullet so near 


322 


The Young Arctic Traders 


the surface that it was readily removed, and 
the wound, while painful, was superficial and 
not at all dangerous. When Al’s wound was 
dressed those of Marx and Inkovitch received 
as careful attention, though Daddy declared 
they deserved no consideration. 

“ ’Tain’t right to treat me and my mates 
this way,” ventured Levine in an aggrieved 
tone while Mr. Dugmore dressed the wounds 
of the two men. “Here you makes us stay 
all winter in an igloo just for a little scrap 
we has aboard ship. I wouldn’t hurt a hair 
on nobody’s head. No, sir, not me! I’m fair 
and square, I be, and easy-goin’ too. My 
heart’s as soft as a woman’s that way. ’Twere 
unhuman the way the master treats us, but 
I’m forgivin’ and I won’t hold it agin’ him 
if he treats me right now. ’Tweren’t right 
the way the Stowaways and Shanks treats us 
neither. When we comes here to give ’em a 
little surprise and visit ’em just to be sociable- 
like, they ups and shoots at us. ’Tain’t fair 
and square, that’s what I says. ’Tain’t treatin’ 
us right.” 

“You are very much injured, so to speak,” 


The End of the Cruise 


323 


remarked Mr. Dugmore with a tinge of sar- 
casm, as he left the igloo. 

Three days’ rest were given dogs and men 
in preparation for the return journey to the 
ship. On the morning previous to their de- 
parture from Etah one of the Eskimos who 
had been guarding the prisoners came run- 
ning to the shack to report that Levine and 
Marx had disappeared during the night. 
Eskimos set out on the trail of the fugitives, 
but soon lost it. The two men had gone north- 
ward presumably in an effort to .reach the 
shelter of Annootok. Their arms had been 
taken from them and there was no fear that 
they could intimidate or harm the natives. It 
was decided that they would doubtless return 
with the musk ox hunters on their southward 
journey and therefore no attempt was made 
to follow them. Inkovitch was taken on one 
of the sledges, and early one morning they 
set out for Westenholm Sound and the ship, 
where they duly arrived and received a 
hearty welcome from their mates. 

“Here you are I Here you are!” Captain 
Mugford beamed when Al, Harry, and 


324 The Young Arctic Traders 


Shanks went aboard the Sea Lion. “Fine 
hunt you made, lads! Better trade than I ex- 
pected! Owe you a lot of money! You’ll be 
rich when I settle with you, you rascals! 
Earned it, though! Yes, you earned it!” 

Spuds was quite overcome when he greeted 
his three friends and, true to his promise, 
fried a large batch of doughnuts for their par- 
ticular use. “They’re all your’n,” said he as 
he called them to the feast. “I’ve missed you, 
Shanks, and I’ve missed you too, Al-fred and 
Hen-nery. Them’s better doughnuts than 
any of my ancestors on the Mayflower had if 
I do say it, what made ’em.” 

And there was no doubt Spuds was correct. 

In accordance with their promise the musk 
ox hunters came to the ship in due time with 
the pelts, but neither Levine nor Marx came 
with them. The two men had made their 
escape to Annootok as had been surmised and 
had returned with the Eskimos to Etah, 
where they had elected to remain in exile and 
share the fortunes of the North with the na- 
tives. 

The days grew long and the nights short 


The End of the Cruise 


325 


Clouds of little auks again inhabited the 
cliffs. Then came wild geese and eider 
ducks, gulls, terns, and other wild fowl. The 
sun ceased to set, and there was no night. The 
land was transformed into a sea of slush. 
Streams ran down the mountain-side. Bowl- 
ders were loosed and crashed down the slopes. 
Summer had reached the Arctic wilderness. 

At last came the long-expected movement 
of the ice, and finally the Sea Lion swung out 
into open water, her anchor apeak, and sails 
hoisted. 

It was mid-September when the green 
shores of Massachusetts one sunshiny morn- 
ing appeared off the starboard, and to the 
voyageurs from the Arctic they presented an 
almost tropical appearance. 

In due time the Sea Lion sailed into New 
Bedford Harbor, and before them lay the old 
town at last. In early morning they warped 
alongside the wharf where A1 and Harry had 
taken refuge on a fateful July evening two 
years before and became unwilling stowaways 
to be carried away upon their adventurous 
voyage. 


326 The Young Arctic Traders 


They were back again in the world, the 
great throbbing world! Not far away were 
their homes and their fathers and mothers 
who had suffered months and months of 
agony at their unexplained disappearance 
and who had doubtless long before mourned 
them as dead. Their knees grew weak with 
the thought and lumps came into their 
throats. 

“Here we are safe and sound!” breezed the 
Sky Pilot, joining them. “What do you chaps 
say to getting into your shore togs, and having 
breakfast in a little restaurant I know about? 
Daddy and Shanks are coming.” 

Twenty minutes later the five strode forth 
into the street, A1 and Harry feeling not a 
little awkward in the clothes they had worn 
when they went aboard the Sea Lion, and 
which, to their astonishment, they discovered 
were now nearly a size too small for their 
broadened chests and shoulders. 

It was a short walk to the restaurant and 
while the Sky Pilot issued an order for thick> 
juicy broiled steaks, baked potatoes, and hot 
rolls and coffee, A 1 and Harry devoted their 


The End of the Cruise 


3 27 


attention to the telephone and, as may be 
imagined, created a tremendous sensation and 
unbounded joy in two homes in Fall River. 


TO THE READER 


This story , clean-cut and ennobling, has 
held your interest from first to last . We call 
your attention to others by the same author, 
equally inspiring and wholesome, on the fol- 
lowing pages . 


The Publishers. 


Bobby of the Labrador 

By 

DILLON WALLACE 

ILLUSTRATED BY FRANK E. SCHOONOVER 


C It abounds in thrilling adventure, hairbreadth escapes, 
and genuine sport. It is eminently wholesome in every 
detail. Boys will find it interesting, inspiring, instruc- 
tive, and ennobling. — Word and Way. 

C There is nothing flabby about the story; the adven- 
ture is clean-cut, and interesting, but there is no trace 
of unreality. Bobby is a genuine hero. — Chicago Eve- 
ning Post. 

C Dillon Wallace’s stories satisfy the boy’s natural 
taste for adventure, and he possesses the knack of teach- 
ing at the same time valuable moral lessons, so that his 
books have received strong endorsements from those 
interested in placing interesting and instructive books 
in the hands of the young. — Los Angeles Graphic. 

C The narrative is full of healthy excitement ; the dia- 
logue is wholly natural; a literary quality is nearly 
everywhere present, and threads of ethical purpose run 
through the whole. The reviewer confesses to having 
read the story twice over, tempted thereto by the fresh- 
ness and continued interest of the tale. — Boston Herald. 

C “ Bobby,” the young hero, was found adrift in a boat 
by an Eskimo, who adopted him as a gift from God. He 
grew up on the Labrador coast, and had many exciting 
adventures narrated in a style that can be acquired only 
through actual experience in the cold regions of the 
North. — Evening Wisconsin. 


A. C. McCLURG & CO. 

PUBLISHERS - CHICAGO - ILLINOIS 


The Wilderness Castaways 

By 

DILLCXN WALLACE 


ILLUSTRATED BY H. S. WATSON 


C One of the “ mealiest ” stories for boys that has seen 
the light for many years. The tale of how two lads, one 
a self-reliant Newfoundlander and the other an over- 
pampered New Yorker, went adrift in a fog on Hudson 
Bay and were forced to make their own living out of 
the wild in a sub-Arctic winter. It is full of adventure 
from first to last. — Boston Globe. 

C Full of hunting, of peril, and privation, and shows 
how a grim outdoors can transform the life of a self- 
centered youth. It is the work of a man who knows the 
heart of a boy, as well as the heart of the wilderness. — 
Epworth Herald. 

C One of the best boys’ stories published is this record 
of a spoiled New York lad and a sailor boy who became 
separated from a hunting party. Their adventures, and 
the change wrought in the selfish city lad, are told with 
a vividness and sense of humor which will appeal at 
once to the boy reader or any other. — American Tourist. 

<T The story is brimful of exciting incidents, and will 
be numbered among the boy readers’ favorites. — San 
Francisco Bulletin. 

C Mr. Wallace has made a gripping story, and held up 
manliness and courage in an attractive light. — Boston 
Journal. 

C In this book two boys made good, and that is a 
mighty good thing to present in any book for boys. — 
Baltimore Sun. 


A. C. McCLURG & CO. 

PUBLISHERS 


CHICAGO 


ILLINOIS 



The Fur Trail Adventurers 

By 

DILLON WALLACE 

ILLUSTRATED BY E. W. DEMING 


C The story is told with a realism that is a result of 
Mr. Wallace’s long experience in the Northland. It is 
one of the best books that could be given to a boy of 
twelve or fourteen, and one of the most acceptable. — 
Chicago Daily News. 

C Like all his others, it is intensely interesting, the style 
vivid, the ideas high and elevating, and the whole story 
clean and wholesome. All boys like his books and read 
them with eagerness. — Christian Observer. 

C There is in it much of the woodcraft and outdoor life 
that boys are learning more and more to love, thanks 
to the scout movement. Dillon Wallace knows by expe- 
rience what his boy readers like, and this is one of the 
best books he has written. It is well illustrated. — 
Indianapolis News. 

C The author has written a thrilling tale in which is 
incorporated much real information about woodcraft 
and the outdoor life. — Boston Globe. 

C To those who wish a library for boys, with some books 
of clean adventure in the woods and waters of the far 
North, this volume is indispensable. — Sioux City 
Tribune. 

C A book of adventures written to satisfy the thirst of 
every young boy for the romance of the wilds.— -Chicago 
Examiner. 


A. C. McCLURG & CO. 

PUBLISHERS - CHICAGO - ILLINOIS 


The Long Labrador Trail 

By 

DILLON WALLACE 

ILLUSTRATED BY PHOTOGRAPHS 


C “ It’s always the way, Wallace ! When a fellow starts 
on the long trail, he’s never willing to quit. It’ll be the 
same with you if you go with me to Labrador. When 
you come home, you’ll hear the voice of the wilderness 
calling you to return, and it will lure you back again.” 

C It was Leonidas Hubbard, the heroic explorer, who 
spoke these words to Dillon Wallace when they were 
lying by a camp fire in the snow-covered Shawangunk 
Mountains where they planned the trip that cost them 
indescribable suffering, and Hubbard his life. 

C “ The work must be done, Wallace, and if one of us 
falls before it is completed the other must finish it.” 

C Wallace returned to keep the compact, and The Long 
Labrador Trail is the story of marvelous adventure, dis- 
covery, and brilliant description of the exploration of 
the land that lured, the hitherto unknown country, where 
the Eskimo builds his igloo and hunts the walrus and 
the seal. 

C The story is one of brave and successful exploration, 
of interesting anecdote, of human feeling, with scientific 
accuracy characterizing the fund of information, and 
many photographs illuminating the text. 


A. C. McCLURG & CO. 


PUBLISHERS - 


CHICAGO 


ILLINOIS 


The Arctic Stowaways 

By 

DILLON WALLACE 


ILLUSTRATED BY FRANK E. SCHOONOVER 


C Very few works contain in so small a space as much 
concrete information about Arctic life as Mr. Wallace 
has deftly woven into The Arctic Stowaways. He is 
well acquainted with life toward the Arctic Circle and 
paints most brilliant word-pictures of the beauty of sea 
and sky in that far Northland. 

The author knows what boys like and need in a story 
— knows they want adventure ; like fair play and admire 
manliness; realizes they need moral instruction. So he 
weaves into his narrative thrilling situations, interesting 
information about Arctic modes of life, and admirable 
examples of manliness and courage. 

Every boy, and grown-ups, too, will be better for 
having read this refreshing tale of the frigid wilds. 

C A thrilling tale of the far North. Written primarily 
for boys, but the work is so well done that any grown-up, 
who loves adventure, will find this a book worth reading. 

The lads upon whose adventures the tale is based have 
one glorious good time and every boy who gets hold of 
this book will have just that kind of a time until the 
last page is read. 

In addition to the retailing of many adventures, the 
author has painted a vivid picture of the frigid regions 
in which he has set his story. It is interesting and in- 
formative, and the descriptions of life in the North are 
such as to at once make all who read wish to take a 
trip to this land of thrills. — Los Angeles Times. 


A. C. McCLURG & CO. 

PUBLISHERS - CHICAGO - ILLINOIS 


John Adney, Ambulance Driver 

By 

DILLON WALLACE 

ILLUSTRATED BY J. ALLEN ST. JOHN 


C A realistic story of adventure in which a seventeen- 
year-old boy is picked up by a German spy in New York, 
sent to London with valuable papers in his possession, 
goes to France as an ambulance driver, and has many 
exciting experiences before he joined the United States 
marines. The book is dedicated to the author’s Boy 
Scouts of Old Troop I, of Beacon, New York. — Seattle 
Post-Intelligencer. 

C John Adney, Ambulance Driver, is the latest book of 
Dillon Wallace’s tales of travel and adventure. It takes 
the reader into France where he sees the battlefields and 
learns of conditions as they actually existed during the 
Great War. 

The story is sure to appeal to the youth of America, 
as it is written in a vivid and thrilling manner, taking 
hold of the imagination and swaying the feelings of the 
reader. — Athol (Miss.) Chronicle. 

C The author of Bobby of the Labrador and other pop- 
ular books for boys has turned his attention to the 
battlefields of France and written a story full of thrills 
and adventures. 

Most boys will pronounce this a first-rate book, while 
older readers who care for war stories will find it emi- 
nently satisfactory. — Los Angeles Times . 

C From first to last a story of action. — Pittsburgh 
Chronicle Telegraph. 

C John Adney is picked up by a German spy in New 
York, and his exciting experiences, first in London and 
then on a torpedoed ship and over in France as an ambu- 
lance driver, are related in such a manner as to make 
the story seem all too brief. — Omaha Bee. 


A. C. McCLURG & CO. 

PUBLISHERS - CHICAGO - ILLINOIS 


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